


Fate Is A Cruel Mistress (Part 1)

by Geri_Lea



Series: We Were Inevitable [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fate, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geri_Lea/pseuds/Geri_Lea
Summary: Through all the twists and bends of the fated love between two very different people.Mark who is happy and a committed relationship and sees no need for anyone else, and Sebastian who believes without any doubt that he and Mark are meant to be together. And Sebastian is going to prove it, despite there being someone else, despite them being teammates and despite them both wanting the same WDC just as badly.Part 1 (2001 to 2011)





	1. 2001

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 1 of a 3 part series. 
> 
> Part 2, Detours We Love, I wrote a few years back now (it only feels like yesterday) and can be read purely as stand alone or not read at all. ([https://archiveofourown.org/works/5025241/chapters/11549776](Part2))
> 
> If you have seen the movie Timer then you can probably skip the notes. For those of you that haven't (and I would very much recommend the movie) it's an AU where people from the age of 14 can receive a Timer. A device that is implanted into your inner wrist, and tells you the exact time you will meet your soulmate, 'The One'. Of course it isn't always about love at first sight, and not everyone's Timer countdowns from the moment they receive it, your other half has to have a Timer too - if they don't your Timer remains blank, waiting to countdown. A Timer will only go off when you look into the eyes of the person you are destined to be with.
> 
> I made a few tweaks to the universe, but ultimately the same premise applies.

**\- 2001 -**

 

**July 3 rd 2001**

For nearly eleven years the Timeron Mark’s wrist had been blank. Eleven years felt like a lifetime, the simple device that had been there since he was fourteen now felt more like a broken watch, but it was a piece of him as much as a finger, one that for a long time he had forgotten even had a purpose. A Timer was useless if it was blank, filled only with dashes, its purpose pointless, and Mark hadn’t cared. Why would he care if he didn’t have a countdown to meeting his supposed soul mate? Why care when as far as he was concerned he had already found them?

He smiles as he hears Ann chatting to her sister on the phone in their bedroom as he grabs his toothbrush. It was always the simple things that made him realise how good he had it. He listens while brushing his teeth, rolling his eyes when she bitches about the dogs because he knows deep down she loves their dogs as much as he did, even if they did occasionally destroy a few pairs of her slacks. While contemplating a gift to get for her to make up for the pants, there’s a tiny noise that echoes in the bathroom.

_Beep-Beep._

Blinking, Mark chews down on his toothbrush as his breathing slows. Holding up his right arm he stares at his wrist and his Timer. He swallows his entire mouthful of toothpaste.

_1879d 02h 40m 33s_

Mark isn’t sure this is real. He’s surprised to see the countdown, after all this time he had convinced himself it would never countdown. But no, not broken apparently. He can only stare at the seconds slowly ticking down, feeling like his heartbeat was slowing with each change of number. This just was not possible. _Not possible_.

“Mark?”

Mark yanks the toothbrush from his mouth as he hears Ann call for him, quickly moving to rinse his mouth. What was he meant to do now? What did he tell her? Maybe he _didn’t_ tell her?

“Mark?” Ann appears in the door way. “I know we discussed returning to Australia for…” She trails off, her forehead crinkling at Mark’s sudden paleness. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Mark is at a loss for words, and deciding none were needed he holds out his wrist for her to see. Keeping secrets had never been a part of who they were.

“You went off?” Ann stares at his wrist, she sounded as shocked as he felt, and her hand reaches for his arm, thumb brushing over the numbers that were counting down.

“Yeah…” Mark still hadn’t managed to come up with any real words and he watches as Ann’s mouth pushes into a smile.

“That’s a good thing,” she tells him, but there’s no missing that those words were forced out. When she turns to walk away, Mark grabs her arm.

“Don’t leave,” he whispers panicked. She couldn’t just walk out on him, not like that, not without any warning. His heart might have felt like it had stopped beating before, but it was now pounding so hard, pumping his limbs full of fear that he felt paralysed. “Don’t leave me.”

Ann stops at his plea, looking back at him with surprise before she reaches out and touches his cheek. “I’m going to finish getting ready for bed,” she murmurs. “One thousand, eight hundred days. We have a little time to discuss what this means.” Her light-hearted comment falls flat and Mark just yanks her hard against him, almost crushing her in his hug. “Mark,” she gasps surprised, but she returns the embrace.

“I don’t give a shit about it,” he tells her viciously. “It doesn’t get to dictate my life, I won’t let it. I want you, I want this, and I don’t care what some piece of scientifically constructed device says. No one is walking into my life and replacing you. _No one_.” There was no promise he had made that he had meant more than this.

Ann’s fingers stroke the back of his neck, but she doesn’t look at him. “Not today anyway,” she murmurs. She pushes free of Mark’s embrace and walks out the bathroom, leaving Mark standing there trembling.

Glancing at his wrist, at that fucking Timer he’d been given when he was fourteen by his parents. He thinks he might hate them for forcing him into a decision he wasn’t sure he’d ever choose for himself, no matter what policies Australia was trying to push at the time. Grasping his wrist tightly, he contemplates ripping out the device, not sure if that was even possible or not, but there was no way he was going to let this blasted thing tell him who to love. And the universe was fucked up if he was expected to go eleven years with no countdown, wait another five years, if his math was right, and think that in all that time he wouldn’t know love.

He knew love. Ann showed him that Timers didn’t decide anything. Her own blank Timer allowing them a possibility to try a relationship that was frowned upon as they weren’t ‘meant to be’. For something that was ‘wrong’, it felt like everything, Ann had become everything. It was more than love, and _no one_ , no _Timer_ would tell him otherwise and there was no way someone was going to walk into his life in… he looks at his wrist again, _one thousand, eight hundred and seventy-nine days_ , and undo the best relationship of his life. That was impossible. _Impossible_.

*

Sebastian was sitting in his kitchen, mostly in the dark, as he sneakily eats his third piece of leftover birthday cake. His mum had made it for him and it was his favourite, it was so delicious he couldn’t keep away. Well cake, coupled with his newly installed Timer guaranteed there would be no sleep tonight. Pushing another forkful of cake into his mouth, Sebastian’s eyes are locked on the counting digits, and with midnight just passing, he was already down a day.

_1878d 23h 40m 53s_

This had been the thing he had been looking forward to the most about turning fourteen. This one small device that would provide him his soul mate, and he was lucky enough to get a countdown the moment it installed. He wondered how long his other half had to wait?

The light flicks on in the kitchen, and Sebastian’s head snaps up, eyes blinking furiously to adjust to the sudden brightness. Melanie was standing there, raising her eyebrows at his plate of cake. Sebastian immediately draws it closer protectively.

“God Sebi,” she mutters walking to the fridge, “You are the most selfish person. I just want water.”

“Good,” Sebastian mutters slouching back down.

“Can’t sleep?” Melanie asks as she grabs a glass for herself and Sebastian shrugs in response. “I bet your thinking about some tall dark handsome guy.”

“They don’t have to be tall and dark,” Sebastian mutters, cheeks heating up as Melanie comes to sit next to him at the kitchen table, and Sebastian wishes she’d just go back to bed.

“Staring at it won’t make it tick down faster,” she states flicking at the Timer as she does. Sebastian shoves his hand into his lap, scowling at her. “Don’t be so defensive,” she huffs back, sipping her water. “I’m happy for you. And you’re lucky, five years isn’t so bad. You’ll be at a good age to settle down.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian echoes the thought but truthfully he hadn’t really thought of it like that. He’d be done with school and hopefully well on the way to becoming an F1 driver. “I’ll be ready no matter when.”

Melanie stares hard at him for a long moment, and Sebastian watches her open her mouth to start to say something a few times before she sighs. She reaches out and squeezes the hand that held his fork. “I know you Sebi,” she says quietly, “Timers aren’t fairy tales, they’re not a happily ever after from the moment you meet.”

Scowling at Melanie clearly intent on ruining his mood, Sebastian stares at his nearly empty plate of cake and waits for her to finish her lecture so he could go back to wondering what his soul mate was doing right at this moment.

“I’m just trying to say, it’s not all perfect. I’ve heard stories of people meeting their soul mates and not being together from the first moment –“

“Yes!” Sebastian agrees snapping his head up to glare ta her. “But why can’t I be different? Who says it won’t be love at first sight? Who says I won’t get what I want?”

Melanie grins at that. “Oh, you’ll get what you want Sebi.” She stands up, laughing a little as she does. “You have _always_ gotten what you want. I just want you to be realistic about things. I don’t want you to get hurt.” She touches his cheek fondly and Sebastian jerks away from her not wanting a sappy moment. “You’re going to be a world champion, you’re going to meet this guy, and you’ll get a happy ending. Eventually.”

“Yes,” Sebastian agrees. “I will. And it’s going to be perfect Melanie. _Perfect_.”

Shaking her head Melanie walks out the kitchen as she mutters, “And here we were all thought you being gay was going to be the thing we should worry about.”

Sebastian shoves his cake away suddenly not feeling so hungry anymore. He gets to his feet, thinking maybe he should get some sleep, only to sigh when Melanie reappears.

“You’re not going to wait five years are you?”

“What?”

“You’re not going to spend the next five years not dating, not seeing other people are you? I mean, you need to live a little Sebi.”

Sebastian blinks. Did she think he was crazy? He could wait five years. He didn’t need to date, he wasn’t going to be _too old_ when they meet. And it was a nice thought to be with only one person, to being with _the one_ and no one else. But he could see by his sister’s narrow eyes and the lecture on the tip of her tongue that he bites back the urge to argue, “Of course not.”

“Good.” She nods her head and walks back out.

Fingers reaching for his Timer he strokes it as he heads to bed. He hopes the next five years don’t drag. Wishing for the numbers to count down faster, Sebastian goes back to wondering what his soul mate is like with a smile.

*             *             *


	2. 2006

**\- 2006 -**

  

**22 nd of August 2006**

Packing for the Turkish Grand Prix, Mark finds himself dragging his feet. He doesn’t want to go. Ann is the one raving at him about flights and moving his ass, seemingly for the moment forgetting what will occur in a few days, whether deliberate or not, Mark isn’t sure.

Since his Timer went off, Ann’s still stoically blank on the topic, despite feeling like things had mostly been the same between them. However, Ann was now beginning to treat them like things were ending in 3 days, her hugs linger, she kisses him like it might be there last, and holds his hand when she normally wouldn’t. All these tiny things that make Mark love her more, and more determined that whatever happens in 3 days, it won’t change his world. Ann was his world, had been for more than half his life.

It’s on Ann’s second burst entrance into the room to tell him to get cracking that Mark grabs her and hugs her hard. “Let’s call in sick for this race. We could go away to deserted island and stay there for a week.” Even he can hear the desperation in his voice but he was determined to not let this happen, to not let anything change. It was also the first time Mark let her see that maybe he was scared, not scared about his decision, but what hers might be in a few days.

Ann touches his cheek and smiles at him sadly. “We can do that after the race. That is the most important thing. You know that Mark.”

Mark shakes his head disagreeing. “You’re more important.”

Ann leans forward and kisses him softly. “Then no matter what, you'll prove it and there was nothing to worry about.”

Grasping her tightly, Mark clings to her not wanting to let go. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me alone in all this. I need you. I love you.” He had to let her know, what if she didn’t know? What if he didn’t tell her that enough and she doesn’t understand.

“Leave you Mark?” She looks surprised as hugs him back hard. “I’m not going to leave you. I promise I won’t walk away from you. I will stay until you decide otherwise, because that was inevitable at some point.” Her fingers hold his shirt tight, holding on as tightly as he was. “I’ll always be here for you, even if it’s just to continue to manage you.”

“No!” He shakes his head before pushes into her neck. She smells like home. “Nothing is going to change. _Nothing_.” His words muffled against her but he knows she heard him.

Stroking his hair Ann sighs. “This is why my mother said this was a very bad idea when we started all this.”

Mark lifts his head. She’d never voiced any regrets before. “No. This is the best things we ever did. And I wouldn’t change a moment from all the years we have had together. Not for anyone. Ever.”

And that earns a proper smile from Ann which he returns, before he is pushed away. “Come on pack,” she orders. “Flights. Race. Get ready.”

Mark sighs as she hurries away. Three days. Three days till he could get past one moment that was meant to change his life and come back home and pretend nothing happened.

 

**24 th of August 2006**

Sebastian knows he should be asleep and not awake at a quarter to midnight when he has his first F1 practice tomorrow, but sleep was something that was never going to happen, not tonight, not when his timer was on it’s final countdown. Less than fifteen minutes… his eyes were transfixed on the digits that counted down to the day where he would meet his other half.

He was full of nervous excitement, tomorrow he meets his soul mate, tomorrow he had his first official outing in an F1 car… Tomorrow was the day he had waited for, and if he had to contain anymore emotions he might explode.

The tingling beeping that finally sounds when it reaches midnight echoes loudly in his hotel room. Sebastian finally tears his eyes from his wrist and moves from his curled seating position against the headboard of his bed to slide beneath the sheets. His fingers strokes his zeroed out timer, “Tomorrow’, he murmurs, which is now technically today. The next time his Timer beeped it would end his wait.

Considering sleep had seemed so far away just minutes earlier it claims him surprisingly fast now, drifting off with a smile to dream about his mysterious ‘one’, knowing that tomorrow the blurred face in his dreams would actually have a form. Tomorrow he would finally have someone and he wouldn’t be alone. Sighing happily, he snuggles deeper under the covers. Tomorrow he felt like his life would start, his career would really start; tomorrow he knows his life will change and it will be perfect.

 

**25 th of August 2006 – Friday Free Practice, Turkish Grand Prix**

Eating was something that Mark seemed unable to stomach right now, he found himself looking at the ground more than usual, aware that he was probably not his usual buoyant self. Making his way through the paddock, Ann next to him was a comfort as she flipped through a copy of the Red Bull Bulletin. Casting a glance at her, Mark was surprised at how calm she looked, but Ann had always possessed the ability to appear cool and calm under pressure. His hand seeks hers, squeezes, to reassure her, and himself, and she glances up and smiles at him as they head towards Williams following their quiet lunch.

“Sorry!” Mark jumps when he’s run into, a Torro Rosso mechanic with his arms full, not watching where he was going, looks up at Mark with his apologies. And Mark flinches when they make eye contact, but there’s nothing besides another apology and the mechanic rushing on his way. Sighing, Mark runs his hand through his hair, today was going to be the death of him if he nearly had a panic attack when he glanced at anyone.

“Relax Mark,” Ann murmurs. “You can’t change fate, so just… relax.”

For the first time, Mark feels annoyance. “Why aren’t you more stressed about this?”

“Because how I feel will change nothing, come on, practice will be starting soon.” Ann turns and keeps walking and Mark stares after her wondering if he was already losing his grip on her. His heart squeezes tightly, and he closes his eyes for a moment to regroup before taking a deep breath and walking faster, his eyes fixed in front of him, he was not afraid of his fate – he determined it.

 

Sebastian had decided he loved the paddock, the motorhome, the garage, _everything_ about F1. There was an energy and a buzz that he could easily become addicted too. Everyone around him had their task, their duty, rushing, and he found himself watching them all, trying to grasp how things ran, how this world pieced together. He stood in the garage to the side, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes eagerly trying to fix on every little detail.

His father’s hand clamps on his shoulder. “Sebastian, you should calm down a little,” he murmurs in German.

“I am calm,” Sebastian answers defensively, crossing his arms, wishing it was practice already. He would be calmer if he could drive, be in the car and not think for a bit. “I’m going to get to get some air,” he yanks away from his dad’s grip and escapes the BMW garage to stretch his legs.

Outside he stretches in the sun, watching as everyone gears up for practice, the paddock thinning as everyone makes their way to their designated places. Unconsciously, he strokes his wrist where it held his zeroed out timer just watching.

 

One quick bathroom break, and then the garage and then practice. Mark walks quickly back through the paddock towards the garage, adjusting his race suit as he goes, he only slows to dodge a group taking photographs, looking up as he does at the boy leaning outside the motorhome of BMW, watching him and when Mark meets his eyes he hears the beeping from his timer singing to that on a wrist of boy not too far away. And Mark can only stare.

 

Sebastian felt like for one moment his whole stilled as his timer beeped for the last time after _one thousand, eight hundred and seventy nine days_. And now he was staring at a man whose eyes widened in realisation and Sebastian’s heart skips a beat before he blinks. Beautiful dark hair, sharp chiselled features, the phrase ‘ruggedly handsome’ springs to mind, and it was sort of perfect. Sebastian wants to touch him. Eyes greedily raking up and down the lean body of the stilled man, a fellow driver from his Williams overalls, but Sebastian can’t think to place his name.

 

Mark remembers to breathe, his head screaming at him to walk away. But he’s frozen. Staring at a fucking child. He had to be twelve. He was fucking twelve. This was joke. No, his whole life was turning into a joke, a sick joke. This was not possible. He was meant to choose a twelve year old over Ann? And not just any twelve year old, but a _boy_?

He brightens then, smiles because suddenly he wasn’t so sure what he had been afraid of, a twelve year old didn’t compare. Mark watches as the boy moves towards him, and Mark shakes his head at him and turns and walks off. If it was a joke, the joke was on fate, because this was suddenly a whole lot easier and the spring was back in his step.

 

Sebastian stopped the moment the driver shook his head, smile gone before he turned his back on him and walked off. What did that mean? Not now? Or I don’t want you? There was a big difference between those. Self-consciously, Sebastian looks down at himself, smoothing his overalls wondering if he didn’t measure up. He knows he wasn’t the most attractive, but looks didn’t matter when it came to true love…

“Sebastian.”

He whirls around to stare at his father, eyes wide and caught by surprise.

“Practice,” he reminds him and Sebastian nods his head numbly hurrying back, staring at the Williams garage. His father grabs his elbow, “Are you okay?”

“Ja,” he responds, before adding quietly, “Perfect.”

*

Mark knows Ann is watching him as they get ready for bed, he knows she won’t ask but she wants to, but he has no idea what he was meant to say. That moment he had been dreading for so long has been and past and he was now moving on.

Ann who had been moisturising her hands flips the cap closed on the bottle and sighs before sliding into bed next to him, and Mark then reaches over and turns off the light.

“Are we really not going to discuss this?” She asks in the darkness as Mark settles down next to her.

“Yep,” Mark responds leaning over and kissing her cheek. “There is nothing to worry about.” The response Mark gets is silence and not his usual ‘I love you’ and sighing Mark rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling, letting his mind fall back to the boy he had seen earlier today.

Sebastian Vettel. Some hot shot wannabe, some boy that thought he could win the world. He was nothing. He topped practice, but he was nothing, he would be no different than most of the others. He wasn’t special or good looking, he was average and plain and didn’t even deserve another glance backwards. Sebastian Vettel and his blue eyes.

*

With no practice the following day, Sebastian finds himself reading the track guide, not for track facts, he knew all those, but to read the profile of the drivers. Well, more just the one driver. His fingers run over the letters of the William’s driver.

_Mark Webber_.

A name and a face to the one person he had been waiting for. Smiling, Sebastian sips his hot chocolate as he reads the basic facts, his career to date, and then rereading the whole article again.

When his father joins him with his coffee, Sebastian casually turns the page. He hadn’t wanted to share the identity of his soul mate with his father, not yet. His father hadn’t pushed, warned his mother would when they returned home. Sebastian knew that was inevitable, but right now he wanted to hold onto Mark a little longer, keep him to himself.

The moment he could escape from his father, he does, making his way through the paddock, his feet taking him towards Williams. He chews his lip nervously, unsure of what to say, but knowing that he wasn’t going to this let this go. This was too important, this was everything he had waited for.

He’s not sure that Mark sees him when he breezes past him, about to step inside, when Sebastian grabs the back of his team shirt before he could think to stop himself.

“Wh-at?” Mark stumbles backwards, caught unaware, turning to see who had grabbed at him before he falls silent. “Sebastian?” Mark sounds like he’s testing his name out.

“Hi,” Sebastian remembers to breathe as he stares up at Mark, becoming aware of how much taller the Australian was over him.

“Listen, mate,” Mark moves towards him, ushering to him the side, and Sebastian feels his face heat up at their close proximity. “This isn’t going to happen –“

“But –“ Sebastian’s interruption is squashed.

“I am with someone else, someone I love and I don’t even know you.”

“Yes, but you will know me, and you will be with me,” Sebastian states the facts plainly and Mark looks a little taken aback at the bluntness of the statement. “That’s how this work. You will love me.”

“Not today mate,” Mark says simply. “Good luck with the Friday gig.”

Sebastian watches as Mark bounds up the steps and inside of Williams. A frown etches deeply into his forehead. This wasn’t how this was meant to work out, and he wants to go after Mark and argue about it but that wasn’t possible right now. Sucking in a deep breath he tells himself it doesn’t matter, Mark saying no wouldn’t change what was meant to be. Timers weren’t wrong, Timers always led you to your other half.

Five years he had been waiting, he could wait a little longer. At least now he had met _him_ , he had a name and a face. He was one step closer.

*

It’s late on a Sunday when Mark makes it back to his hotel room with Ann. They had been out celebrating with a few of the team for his birthday, he had hit the big 3-0 and for the first time Mark finally feels it, or maybe it was just sheer exhaustion over the past few days, as he falls against the wall next to the door as Ann opens it.

It had been a pleasant evening, Ann and him had felt somewhat like themselves, and Mark had enjoyed it. He reaches out, stroking her arm as she pushes open the door. “He has nothing on you,” Mark murmurs.

Ann looks up at that, surprised at the fact they were going to discuss this. “He?” she repeats.

Mark shrugs. “Yeah. Never thought of myself as ‘gay’,” Mark states, and when Ann snorts, he grins. “Gender never ranked for me, not that I have been with a guy,” he hurriedly assures her before following Ann inside the room. Ann had been the only person he had ever been with, the only person he had loved. “But I suppose I could have been had the right person been a guy.”

“So you’re bi?” Ann asks as she removes her shawl. Mark likes that there is no judgement in her tone, it was nothing more than a question.

Mark shrugs. “I don’t know, I hadn’t really thought about it.” Mark frowns as he contemplates the idea, he’s not sure how he feels about it, he hadn’t really had time to consider Sebastian’s gender amidst of the worrying about his relationship with Ann.

“So, this guy?” Ann coaxes and Mark moves towards as she begins removing her jewellery.

“Guy?” Mark snorts. “He’s a child. I get a blank Timer all those years because he wasn’t even born.”

“It could be good for you. Sometimes you are too grown up, maybe he’ll remind you to not be such a grump,” Ann counters with a small smile.

Mark pushes his face into her neck and breathes her in, smiling against her. “If you don’t care that I’m a grump, I don’t give a shit,” Mark mumbles, Ann’s hand reaching to stroke his hair.

“Mark,” she says his name so quietly, “I won’t stand in your way.”

Mark slides his arms around her waist and holds her tightly. “I know. Neither would I if this was in reverse. But I’m still not going anywhere.”

“For now,” Ann agrees and despite Mark wanting to argue that he would never go anywhere he drops it, she looks as tired as he does.

So instead he sets about stripping off, wanting to go to bed and sleep for a few hours before their flight. He stops after removing his shirt to find Ann holding up a neatly wrapped package in her palm. “I think someone has left you a gift?”

Mark takes it, fingers attempting to get beneath the mounds of tape on the present. “No card?”

“Nope,” Ann answers as Mark removes the lid of the little gift box.

_Happy Birthday_

It’s written in almost too perfect lettering across the lid. Peering into the box, Mark fishes out the little figurine inside. He holds it up and frowns. “Is it a crab?”

Ann laughs and takes it from him. “Sebastian,” she tells him, and Mark freezes, eyes widening.

“What?”

“It’s Sebastian, from The Little Mermaid. He was the crab.”

“Oh,” Mark says, and his chest tightens uncomfortable. “Oh.” The gift was from Sebastian.

“Odd gift,” Ann shrugs and places it on the dresser and Mark stares at it as she continues to get ready for bed. He ends up tucking it back in the box, he couldn’t bear the thought of it staring at him as he slept.


	3. 2007

**\- 2007 -**

 

**June 2007 – United States Grand Prix**

It had been a nearly a year since Sebastian had seen Mark Webber, well, _spoken_ to him. He had been in the paddock since then, but Mark seemed to avoid him like the plague and each time Mark successfully side-stepped him, Sebastian _thinks_ he is coping a little better with the rejection.

He had not shared Mark’s identity as his soul mate with anyone. It seemed like an odd thing to raise when Mark wasn’t even interested. His mother was most unimpressed with his silence but had after consistent nagging stopped asking him about it. Unsurprisingly, it was his sisters that had been responsible in shutting down the questions. Steph had reminded him that the Timer simply tells you when you _meet_ the one, not when your gifted their love. Melanie had then insisted he go out and get laid as much as possible in the meantime. Yeah, sometimes he wasn’t sure if having sisters was a gift or a curse.

When Mark walks past him in the paddock of his first weekend as an F1 race driver, he grins at him, Mark just raises his eyebrows, mouth barely forming a smile as he passes, decked out now in Red Bull gear rather than Williams like the prior year. But he gets his first proper moment with Mark at his first GPDA meeting.

Chewing his lip he walks in and spying Mark sitting with DC, a spare seat to his left, Sebastian hastily claims it as his own. “Hi,” he says to both of them nervously. The look Mark gives him in response has Sebastian shrink back into his seat, it made him feel like he had sat at the cool table and he hadn’t been invited. This was school all over again.

A grunt drags his attention to the Ferrari driver that sits next to him. Kimi Raikkonen looked _thrilled_ to be here. He was mumbling under his breath, but when he notes Sebastian staring he pushes his coloured shades onto his head. “Fucking boring shit,” he states, and he swears the Iceman, gives him the tiniest smile and Sebastian can’t help but return it fully.

“Ignore him,” Mark cuts in, rolling his eyes. “You can only please Kimi if there’s vodka.”

Kimi shrugs clearly not bothered at the insult. Sebastian stares between the two drivers, and Kimi now with an almost full smile on his face leans towards him, “And if you’re a good boy I can share.” Kimi winks at him before slouching further down in his chair, shades once more covering his eyes; he looked like he might be going for a nap. A part of Sebastian was envious at Kimi’s laidback attitude, he would never think to be so dismissive, and maybe that was what was so attractive about him.

Somewhere during the meeting, Sebastian realises his leg had pushed into Mark’s, until their bare knees touched. Sebastian shivers, feeling like his skin burnt from that one spot. Licking his lips, he glances at Mark who was sitting there with his arms crossed, gaze fixed ahead on the proceedings, and apparently unaware to the fact that they were _touching_. Sebastian swears the room was getting hotter, and when he shifts in his chair, their knees rubbing ever so slightly, Mark finally reacts, yanking his leg away from him.

Sebastian sinks down under Mark’s gaze that seemed to scream one thing – ‘Don’t touch me!’ And Sebastian shifts over in his seat, bumping into a snoozing Kimi that grunts at him, clearly just as unhappy at him. Sebastian wishes he had just chosen to sit in the back row away from everyone.

He had never been so pleased when the meeting was over, jumping to his feet after nudging Kimi to ensure he didn’t keep dozing. He tries to hurry away then, but Mark is right behind, Sebastian feels the hairs raise up on his neck when Mark bends down to hiss in his ear.

“Don’t play fucking games with me Vettel, this doesn’t happen this lifetime.”

Sebastian turns around wanting to tell him he doesn’t get a choice but Mark pushes past him roughly, knocking him a wall. Straightening himself, Sebastian smooths down his team shirt, trying to pep himself back up when he notices Kimi was staring at him amusedly.

“Webber’s a prick.”

“Oh?” Sebastian forces himself to stand straighter.

“He likes to screw with the rookies.” Kimi shrugs and Sebastian walks out beside him, almost feeling like he might have a made a friend. Watching Kimi stretch again, Sebastian becomes aware of the fact that neither of his wrists holds a timer. Kimi notices him staring and smirks. “I don’t need something to tell me what to do. I make my decisions.”

“Oh,” Sebastian blinks at that. He supposes other countries might be more liberal with their choice for Timers, many though had now made it compulsory, Germany was one of those, and it wasn’t something Sebastian had ever thought to question. “Finland doesn’t require it?”

“ _I_ don’t require it,” Kimi corrects.

“Cool,” Sebastian says after a moment. Kimi was the first person he had met without a Timer. He suddenly had a lot of questions he’d like to ask, but before he could think to ask any of them, Kimi was walking off.

*

**September 2007 – Fuji Grand Prix**

Returning from his ITV interview Mark knew that Ann was unhappy with how it went, but right now he failed to give a shit. He storms passed her not wanting a lecture about good PR right now when that fucking kid drove into him, and ruined what might have been his first win. The next time he saw Sebastian Vettel he was going to punch him in the fucking face.

Slamming the door to his driver’s room he stands there breathing hard before turning and punching the wall. He didn’t seem to able to get anything he wanted in F1. “Fuck!”

“Mark?”

He freezes at the quiet call of his name through the door that follow a barely there knock. Sneering, Mark jerked open the door the door to see a red-eyed Sebastian standing there. “Get out of my face,” he orders.

“I um,” Sebastian swallows, looking devastated, “I wanted to say sorry, apologise.”

“Apologise?” Mark scoffs at him. “That fixes nothing. That changes nothing. That doesn’t undo what you did!”

“I know,” Sebastian answers, fingers fiddling with the front of his race suit that was pulled down to his hips. “I’m sorry, so, so, sorry. I didn’t mean it, Lewis…”

“Save it,” Mark orders. “Just fucking save it for someone that cares,” Mark hisses. There’s a part of Mark that takes a lot of joy in watching Sebastian blink away tears, and Mark wanted to crush him further.

“Mark.” Ann was standing behind Sebastian, a warning look in her eyes and Mark uncurls his hands that hung by his sides in tight fists.

Sucking in a deep breath, Mark stares at Sebastian. “Stay away from me. Stay away from me on track. Stay away from me in the paddock. Keep the fuck out of my life.” Stepping back, he slams the door closed a second time, wishing the door had smacked Vettel in the face.

Moments later the door rips back open, slamming closed a second time, but this time he was staring at a furious Ann. “Mark,” she snaps, “What is wrong with you?”

“Wrong with me?” Mark fumes at her. “He shunted me off the fucking track! I get to be pissed about that! Be on my side here!”

“I am _always_ on your side,” Ann argues back at him, though she manages to do that without raising her voice. “But punching Vettel won’t make things any better.”

Mark snorts at that, he thinks Ann might have different thoughts on that if she knew he’d zeroed out with Vettel. “You have no idea how much easier things would be if he just disappeared.”

“Be careful with him,” Ann warns, “He’s being groomed by Red Bull, so be careful about damaging their property.”

There are so many things that are on the tip of Mark’s tongue but he bites it hard. Letting rip at Ann about Vettel, about having to spend the last few months constantly enduring his fucking smiles and little waves, their forced conversation as Sebastian continued to be right fucking there, was driving him insane. How could he vent that when she had no fucking clue? And this afternoon, it felt like the final straw. He wanted Sebastian out of his life so badly, because he couldn’t bare his stupid fucking smiley face all the fucking time. At least today he cried, he cried and Mark thinks that was so much better.

Ann steps forward and touches his shoulder, but Mark jerks away from her touch. He didn’t want her comfort right now and Ann gets his not so subtle hint, sighing as she lets herself back out, muttering about waiting for him to cool down. And Mark stands there alone then, face dropping to his hands as he tells himself to breathe, feeling his anger sliding away and being replaced with a hollow emptiness in his chest.

*

**October 2007 – Brazilian GP**

It was late, or really it was so late it was now _early_. But Sebastian didn’t mind so much, he’d never felt this light in his life. Kimi on the other hand was telling him he was fucking heavy as he dragged him towards his room. He had drunk half as much as Kimi, yet he was the one that seemed to have lost his legs. He looked down at them and giggled at the thought.

“Considering I won, I think this should be the other way,” Kimi grunted shoving him inside his room and Sebastian found himself face down on the couch as Kimi made his way to the minibar. Sebastian lifted his head, disappointed at the Red Bull being thrust at him. “Drink.”

Sebastian somewhat gets his body to cooperate so he is sitting up and drinks his drink as Kimi stumbles out of his clothes. First shoes and socks and then shirt and pants. Sebastian swallows thickly when Kimi finally stops at his boxers and flops down into an arm chair with what looked like a bottle of vodka.

Licking his lips, Sebastian mumbles, “You are very white.”

Kimi tips his head back and laughs, a full proper laugh, something Sebastian had heard all evening, a relaxed Kimi that was nothing like paddock Kimi and it made him feel so completely warm. “You sound so warm,” he continues lacking any ability to use a filter right now.

“That makes no sense,” Kimi says after putting the bottle back down, his gaze piercing as he stares at Sebastian. It’s the first time Sebastian doesn’t feel intimidated by it, definitely the alcohol.

Forcing himself onto his side with a lot of effort, Sebastian gasps at the effort when he is finally facing Kimi. “Why didn’t you get a Timer?”

Kimi raises his eyebrow and shrugs. “You like Timers too much,” Kimi rolls his eyes, Sebastian always asked the question and every time Kimi dodged a proper answer.

Sebastian blinks at him, “Yeah, I get a guarantee.”

“A guarantee?” Kimi’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you have zeroed out. Where’s this guarantee?”

“Hating me,” Sebastian mumbles, pushing his face into the sofa at the memory of Mark making him cry. They hadn’t spoken at all since Fuji.

“So that’s working out great for you,” Kimi snorts. He picks up his vodka, but sets about peeling at the label. “I’ll make my own choice and live with my own mistakes, and enjoy it all.”

Refusing to remove his face Sebastian answers, “It was going to be perfect me and Mark. Perfect.” It’s too bad that his whole sentence is completely uninterpretable. He feels tired, exhausted, and he sighs as he closes eyes. Something heavy falls over him and but he’s immediately warm and he drifts off to sleep.

 

Waking up, Sebastian feels like the world might have fallen on his skull, but he smiles at the painkillers on the small coffee table in front of the couch. He takes it with the bottled water and sits up. He can’t have slept for more than three hours, and he’s surprised to see Kimi curled up in the arm chair opposite him, holding his vodka and trophy and a dopey smile. It was the most un-Kimi like moment and Sebastian gets to his feet and tip toes over to him after pulling out his phone.

The moment the flash goes off, Kimi’s eyes are open, and he blinks at him. There’s a string of Finnish before Sebastian finds himself being launched on by possibly a still drunk Kimi, wrestling himself hungover for his phone. The phone ends up falling from his fingers and sliding across the floor.

But Sebastian finds himself still pinned beneath Kimi, the Finn above him smiling down at him, a dirty smile on his face that Sebastian swallowing nervously, but he remains perfectly still. “I quite like you like this,” Kimi murmurs head dropping down.

“Yeah?” Sebastian whispers, aware that Kimi was shifting so he sat above his hips and he gasped, when Kimi grinds down, the smirk he wore growing.

“Want me to let you up?” Kimi asks, smile still in place but the question was serious.

“What happens after?” Maybe that was a stupid question, Kimi tilts his head looking slightly confused.

“I want to fuck you, that’s it. Nothing else. Nothing changes.” It sounded so simple when Kimi said it.

“I uh…” Sebastian can feel his face heat up, he wasn’t sure how to even start the conversation and say he had never done anything really with any guy.

Kimi misreads because his wrists are released then and he moves to stand up, but Sebastian grasps at him, hands find all that pale glorious skin.

“No,” he rasps, “Don’t, stay. I want to. I want to.”

Kimi stares at him hard then, possibly deciding if this was a bad idea, and Sebastian thinks its definitely a bad idea, but there’s a part of him that definitely wants this, maybe wanted this when they first met. He wonders if this would have happened sooner if he didn’t have a Timer, but those thoughts all die when Kimi’s lips touch his.

Then there’s nothing but messy wet kisses, and hands, lots of hands and skin and Sebastian feels utterly lost. But he doesn’t have to do much thinking, Kimi seems to know exactly what he’s doing. Sebastian thinks that’s a good thing, he can just concentrate on breathing, and Kimi’s skin which he can’t seem to stop touching.

When Kimi finally touches his cock, Sebastian thinks he might have died and gone to heaven, and the only words he can make are mostly noises that could be half formed German words. There’s no fucking, it’s all over before that can even begin, Kimi’s hand too hot and tight for Sebastian to last that long, instead he arches up, feet pushing into the carpet as he comes, Kimi pumping his cock through his orgasm.

He lays there, heart pounding hard in his chest, pupils blown, and looking spaced out as he recovers. He thinks Kimi’s laughing, but he’s not sure. With his head fuzzy post orgasm and woolly still from alcohol, it takes a moment to realise that the insistent pushing against his lips was Kimi’s cock. He opens his mouth and then promptly gags around Kimi’s cock when Kimi thrusts in deeply. Sebastian grasps at Kimi’s hips as he straddles his face, trying to slow the pace, trying to breathe and swallow and cover his teeth. There’s too much happening and Sebastian gives up trying for technique and lets Kimi fuck his mouth.

He doesn’t get a choice if he swallows or not, a few jerked thrusts, and Sebastian is gagging as Kimi comes, practically chocking as he does, having to swallow just to breathe. He coughs when Kimi pulls out of his mouth, and tries to catch his breath. Yeah he wasn’t so keen on blow jobs, he wipes roughly at his mouth before sitting up and reach for his water and drinking a good few mouthfuls.

This was not what he had imagined for this first time with someone, but despite that, he still doesn't regret it, and at least his headache seemed to be dulled slightly.

Kimi was pulling on clothes, muttering something about flights. Sebastian hadn’t really thought about that and maybe he looked panicked because Kimi smirks and asks, “Do you need a lift?”


	4. 2008

As the year and season wear on, Mark realises that things are changing, particularly between he and Ann. He doesn’t know why, and the harder he tries to fix things, the further Ann seems away. And no matter how many times he asks her, that he forces them to have a conversation the more and more dismissive Ann seems on the point.

And then there’s Sebastian. Sebastian that seems to be attached to Kimi Raikkonen’s side. Sebastian who smiles at Kimi, Sebastian who gives all his fucking attention to Kimi. And it irks the shit out of him. He has no idea why, doesn’t want to think too hard about why it bothers him. But there’s a part of him that questions if it’s just friendship between them, maybe it was more?

Where had Sebastian’s steadfast belief in them disappeared? Not that he cared, not that it mattered that Sebastian had put space between them. That was surely the best thing possible? He can go and stand in Kimi’s personal space. And Sebastian does, because Mark sees it, he looks, he does an awful fucking lot of ‘looking’. But that was harmless, looking was completely harmless.

 

**May 2008**

“We should go away for a few days,” Mark suggests to Ann, even if they had only finished unpacking and hadn’t even settled back in. But some time away would be good for them.

Ann who had been making them tea gives drags in a deep breath. “Actually I think we should talk.”

Mark stills. That was never a phrase you wanted to hear. “Sure,” he gives her a forced smile.

“I don’t ask you, and I don’t nag about it, and I do trust you,” Ann’s words all fall out quickly, like she needed to clear the air. “But I want to know who you zeroed out with. It’s someone in the paddock, I know that. Every race Mark, you seem to be further and further away, head wrapped up somewhere I can’t even begin to understand. When we’re at home, things are better, but it’s like after each race, it takes longer and longer for you to be _here_.”

All Mark can do is let out a long slow breath letting it sink in. “There’s no one else,” he promises. “I would never do that to you. Ever.” Was all the distance he felt between them all on him? Had he let himself fall into some well of Sebastian obsession he hadn’t even noticed? Worried about Sebastian’s lack of attention on him, worried about Sebastian’s impact on his relationship with Ann, that he had managed to screw things up himself?

“I want to know Mark, I deserve to know,” Ann’s voice was firm. “I deserve to prepare myself.”

“What?” Mark shakes his head. “No. You don’t need to prepare yourself. It’s not like that. And does knowing make everything okay? Is that what you need to have things be right between us?” If that was the answer, he’d tell her, in a heartbeat. “It will only be a name, it doesn’t change things, doesn’t fix our issues.”

Ann’s silent for a moment before she nods. “I love you Mark. I’d let you go in a heartbeat if that’s what you wanted. I just need to know where your head is at.”

“Hey,” he moves towards her, scoops his arms tightly around her. “I’ll admit I’m confused, that yeah my head feels a little fucked up but I promise, my heart is here. It’s yours, please believe that.”

She leans up and kisses him softly. “Okay.”

Mark smiles at her, but he didn’t feel any relief, he’s not sure he believed her because her eyes hold so many doubts. How did he remove that? How did he fix that? Maybe he just needed to put more space between him and Sebastian, be here more, be _present_. He could do that, he could right all of this mess.

 

**June 2008 – Canadian GP**

Mark should have known that DC wanted to tell him something when he asked him to dinner with Ann. He shouldn’t be sitting here looking surprised when his teammate announced his retirement.

“Do you know what you want to do with all your free time?” Ann asks him.

“Nothing,” DC laughs. “But most likely something in media. I am talking to a few people.” DC looks at Mark who had been silent. “You okay?”

“Of course, it’s great. If it’s what you want, I’m happy for you.” Yes, there was no bitterness in his tone. At all. He liked DC, they were good mates and he enjoyed racing with him.

DC snorts and Ann looks concerned. “You won’t miss me at all. You’ll get Red Bull’s new shiny toy as a teammate.”

“Fuck.”

“Mark,” Ann chides and DC’s smile widens.

“Just show him whose boss, beat Red Bull’s wonder boy and it’ll be fine,” DC assures him.

All this space he was going to put between him and Sebastian was going to dry up next year. He wishes he was drinking something stronger. Maybe he could start. Or maybe this was just a bad dream?

*

Sebastian is shaking the hand of Christian Horner, he feels like this was a dream. He was going to drive for Red Bull? He was going to be promoted? He wasn’t sure his feet were on the ground right now. It would probably not be professional to jump around in Christian’s office.

“I think next year you and Mark will make a great pairing,” Christian smiles at his excitement.

“Mark?” Sebastian’s eyes widen because that hadn’t even begin to settle in amongst all his excitement.

“Of course,” Christian laughs, “It’s only DC retiring, I hope.”

“Ja, of course.” He nods, fingers unconsciously wrapping around his Timer. Things had been so still between him and Mark, so far apart he had been trying desperately to not think about them. But now?

He leaves Red Bull with a smile plastered on his face. Not only was he driving for Red Bull, but Mark was going to be his teammate and maybe, _finally_ things were going to play out as fate intended. How can life get any better?

**September 2008**

 

**Italian Grand Prix**

Sebastian can’t believe he won, he can’t believe that this moment is even real. He can’t top hugging his trophy, he can’t stop smiling, and he thinks he has thrown himself at every team member at least three times. He feels like he’s going to burst, like his skin couldn’t possibly contain him in this moment.

It’s after his spoken to the press, after he has completed his commitments does he get a moment alone in his motorhome. And he just sits there, his fingers shakily stroking his new first place trophy, still not sure if this was happening. He looks up when there’s a knock on his door.

“Come in,” he calls out, arms wrapping around his trophy tightly and then all the air disappears from around him because Mark was standing there, seemingly taller than ever from his seated position. “Mark,” he breathes out, eye widening.

 

Mark forces a smile at Sebastian, taking in the trophy he was nursing like a baby, smile wider than Mark had ever seen, and there was literally happiness radiating from his pores. It’s disgusting and Mark wants to bury himself in it. The happiness, those blue eyes that were brighter than ever, shining. Mark had never seen this Sebastian, and this Sebastian was addicting.

He keeps firmly in the doorway as he clears his throat. “I wanted to offer you my congratulations.”

And if it was at all possible, Sebastian’s smile widens and he brightens even further. Mark has to blink feeling blinded. He should leave because he felt like a moth to the flame, and he had never felt like this for anyone before.

“Do you want to come out and celebrate with me?” Sebastian stammers his invite. “We’re both Red Bull. It’ll be a team thing,” he adds rushed.

“Definitely not,” Mark answers bluntly because the fact he wanted to say yes was every reason to say no. However his response sees Sebastian falter, and the disappointment on Sebastian’s face tarnishes his glow. And Mark hates it, the dullness that he caused. “Maybe next time,” he adds instead, causing a rush of colour to Sebastian’s cheeks, and he’s smiling again, this time with a lot of fucking hope.

“We’re going to be teammates next year,” Sebastian says when he turned to leave and Mark stills before turning to look over his shoulder.

“Yes,” he acknowledges simply because he had nothing further to say on that point and he leaves, cursing himself for being weak and despite his best efforts he can’t shake the image of smiling happy Sebastian from his head, it lingers long after the lights go out. He was terrified, was this the beginning of the inevitable?

*

 

**Singapore GP**

Sebastian finds himself unusually nervous about his filming for PR with Mark in Singapore. He feels like something shifted between them at the last race. He can’t explain it, but when Mark meets him in the foyer of their hotel, his smile seems genuine, something real about it that hadn’t been there before. Maybe he was actually happy to see him?

There’s _nothing_ Sebastian hates about being wedged next to Mark for most of the evening in that little buggy. In fact Mark seems to linger at his side, and there are seemingly fingers ghosting over his back, touching his arms, or hand, or his leg. Always barely touching. It has Sebastian’s head spin, something was definitely changing between them. It makes Sebastian’s heart pound, and sometimes he stops breathing when Mark looks at him. And Mark doesn’t run this time, not that he can, but he also doesn’t look like he wants to.

Sebastian is disappointed when they’re finished, he didn’t want to end this and he’s surprised when Mark’s voice cuts through his thoughts, “You want to get a drink before we call it a night?”

“Yes!” He agrees far too quickly, far too enthusiastically and Mark gives him a tired look but doesn’t retract his offer.

They go to the hotel bar and Sebastian is nervous, he can’t stop his leg jiggling, and Mark isn’t talking, and the silence felt like it was literally killing him. “So, teammates next year,” he has to say something.

“Yep,” Mark says taking a very big sip of his drink.

“So, will that uh… change things?” He wasn’t meant to press, he wasn’t meant to make this about them, but he wants to know, _desperately_.

“Come on Seb,” Mark shakes his head sighing. “The only thing that changes is that we’re teammates, nothing else will change.”

Sebastian slams his glass down angrily and Mark raises an eyebrow.

“Sometimes you really are far too young for all of this,” Mark downs the remainder of his drink and folds his arms as he stares at Sebastian hard. “Being teammates can ruins friendships.”

“Well I don’t want to be your friend,” Sebastian snaps back childish.

“Exactly, and that is ten times worse.”

“I think I can separate work and personal just fine,” Sebastian feels offended.

Mark laughs then and Sebastian knows he was laughing at him. “You are definitely too young to get it. Being teammates, being drivers, being _competitors_ … can’t you see Sebastian? None of this is right, none of this is the right setting.” Mark shakes his head. “This can’t happen now and if you keep fucking pushing, we’re going to destroy each other.”

Sebastian jumps to his feet. “Well at least you aren’t saying no anymore,” he answers angrily. Mark was wrong, if he just accepted that they were going to end up together then everything would be okay. “You know what, why don’t you just call me when you fucking retire?”

“Come on Seb,” Mark tries to diffuse the situation and Sebastian doesn’t care if people were looking at them. Fuck it all. He turns and storms off. He was over waiting, he was over Mark Webber. They were done and he was done with them.

He makes a path directly for Kimi’s room, banging his fist on the door till it opens.

“Seb?” Kimi looked surprised and Sebastian grabs him and kisses him hard.

“Let’s fuck.”

Kimi chuckles, dragging him into the room, slamming the door closed and not stopping Sebastian when he is shoved onto the bed. Sebastian anger intensifies at Kimi’s amusement as he crawls onto him straddling him before he yanks angrily at his shirt hurriedly.

“I want you to fuck me,” Sebastian tells him determinedly. They hadn’t done that, Sebastian hadn’t wanted to have Kimi fuck him, and nearly sober in all their encounters since Brazil last year, Sebastian had made it clear that Kimi wasn’t allowed near his ass. And Kimi had shrugged, apparently not caring and why would he complain, he seemed happy with everything in reverse.

Kimi pushes him back when he tries to kiss him, staring at him hard and trying to read him. “Why?” he asks flatly.

“Because I want to,” Sebastian snaps and Kimi’s batting at his hands that were tackling his jeans before he’s crawling out from under Sebastian. “Seriously?” Kimi _never_ said no sex.

“I’m not going to fuck you simply because Webber rejected you,” Kimi tells him bluntly grabbing his shirt and pulling it back on. “That seems a little too fucked up.”

Sebastian feels his anger explode and he shouts at Kimi, “How is that more fucked up than wanting to fuck me in Brazil hung over?”

 Kimi shrugs. “It doesn’t matter, we didn’t fuck then. Things finished quickly.”  And Kimi had the nerve to fucking smirk and furious Sebastian throws a pillow at him that simply bounces off his shoulder and drops to the floor.

Sebastian sits in the middle of the bed as Kimi waits for him to calm down. And after a few minutes, Sebastian sucks in a deep breath letting his mind filter things through. “How did you know it was Mark?”

Kimi rolls his eyes. “It’s fucking obvious. Last year you, you stared. All the time. This year… maybe not so much.” Kimi’s mouth flickers into a smile, “But Mark…”

Sebastian’s heart jumps to his throat. “What about Mark.”

More shrugs from Kimi. “He’s not uninterested. He stares at us.”

Sebastian slumps onto the bed. Good. He hopes Mark is fucking jealous. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he tells Kimi flatly. “Mark won’t fuck a future teammate.”

“Smart idea.”

Sebastian glares at Kimi, hating him for agreeing.

“You don’t fuck around with other drivers. It’s a bad idea.”

Sebastian shakes his head, “Are you smoking something? _We fuck around_!”

“Yes, but I don’t care,” Kimi answers simply. “And you zeroed out with Mark. I’m not the one caught up in the middle.”

“Yes you are!” Sebastian shouts. “Literally Kimi,  _you are in the middle_!”

Kimi dismisses him with a simple, “I’m going to get an ice-cream? Do you want one?”

“No, I don’t want a fucking ice-cream,” Sebastian grits out. Why the fuck did he even like Kimi? Kimi makes a noise, nods his head and walks out. The moment the door closes, Sebastian sinks onto the bed, all his anger gone. For the first time, he feels alone, truly alone.

He stares at his wrist and all his zeroes. He didn’t want to wait anymore.

*

 

**November 2008**

 

There’s relief when the season ends, Mark happy to pack his bags and return home to Australia. He was going to use the break to not just compete, but fix his head, fix things with Ann, and maybe things were already mending because Ann’s smile seem a little brighter since he returned from Brazil. They seemed a little brighter.

They spend time with her family, he catches up with his family, his zeroed out timer never being raised, a point that everyone knew to not discuss, well except for his mother that raises it quietly as an aside point. Mark stares at his wrist and said his ‘soul mate’ wasn’t worth leaving Ann for, it wasn’t worth much. She squeezes his arm and says one day that will change, she hopes they’re both prepared for that. Mark says he isn’t going to worry about tomorrow, today.

When they finally head to Tasmania, Mark is looking forward to stretching his legs, losing his mind for a few days in nothing but nature and keeping himself moving forward. No where in all his planning did he intend to ride under a car.

Lying on that road, there was only one person he thought of and one person he wanted. Ann.

 

When Sebastian hears from Christian about Mark’s bike accident, Sebastian had gone dead white, staring at his wrist relieved that it was still all zeroes and not blank as if Mark had died. He tries to extract what he can from Christian without being too obvious before deciding he couldn’t sit in Germany when Mark might lose a leg according to some tabloids.

So he does the obvious and most sane thing. He goes to Tasmania. Playing with his timer the whole time, stroking at all the zeroes still there. It was his only comfort, Mark was still alive.

It’s only after he arrives does Sebastian realises how unprepared he is for actually seeing Mark, for dealing with what comes after walking into the hospital, after lying and saying he was Mark’s cousin, in the worst possible Australian accent imaginable. He hadn’t thought any further than getting here.

In the room Mark appeared to be resting, with Ann next to him, on her laptop and working. She looks over her glasses in surprise at him.

“Sebastian?”

Ann’s voice has Mark’s eyes snap open and Sebastian regrets ever deciding to come, wanting to be swallowed up. Yes, he should have put more thought into this particular moment.

“Sebastian? What are you doing here?” Mark asks, as surprised as Ann.

Sebastian clears his throat, trying to find his voice, fingers clamping on his Timer. “I wanted to see you were okay?” He explains quietly, shrinking back to the door because he _really_ should have thought harder about this.

Ann closes her laptop slowly, gaze drifting between them, back and forth.

“It’s a busted leg,” Mark explains sounding tired. “Nothing a few bits of metal can’t fix. Apparently.” He tries to sound light-hearted but it does nothing to lift the mood in the room.

Sebastian shifts his weight from one foot to the other, Ann’s gaze resting on him, staring at him like she’d never really looked before, never met him. Sebastian’s mouth goes dry, realising that Ann didn’t know it was him, and that he might be unravelling Mark’s relationship right at this point. His chest tightens and the room was beginning to lack oxygen. He really should have thought more about this.

If he wanted to end Mark and Ann, he could have done that any time, he didn’t need to do that, that was going to happen without him. “I’m sorry,” he apologies in a rush, “I shouldn’t be here.”

Ann interrupts his exit, “No,” she says. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Ann,” Mark attempts to catch her hand. “Stay,” he pleads.

“I’m going to sort out some lunch,” she mutters practically fleeing the room.

Sebastian can only stand there rooted to the floor as Mark stares at him. “Why are you here?”

“I told you, I needed to see you were okay,” he says quietly and he drifts closer, using the opportunity to do just that. He carefully pokes at Mark’s plastered leg, making sure it was real and attached. “I’m pleased you still have a leg.”

“Me too,” Mark murmurs before he yawns. With no orders to get out, Sebastian drops into the chair that Ann had vacated.

“I was worried,” he whispers, like he was afraid someone would hear him, “Scared you were dead. You don’t get to die before you’re mine.” At least that has Mark give him the tiniest smile. “Dying is forbidden, okay?”

Mark nods. “Noted.”

There’s a long awkward silence that surrounds them. Sebastian breaks it, “I brought entertainment?” He slides off his backpack, digging through it till he pulls out his Little Britain DVDs.

“Thanks mate,” Mark smiles and Sebastian launches into detail about his favourite skits and characters, and which discs he should miss. He talks non-stop because at least there was noise around them, at least until Mark reaches to grab his hand and he falls silent and Sebastian clutches it tightly.

“I’ll be fine Seb,” Mark promises quietly and Sebastian nods.

“Good, I need you to be okay,” he whispers and Mark nods, thumb brushing over Sebastian’s knuckles as his eyes fall closed. It made Sebastian’s whole arm feel warm with tingles. “Mark,” Sebastian leans closer, “Are you high on pain killers right now?”

Mark smiles, not opening his eyes as he answers, “Most definitely. I fucking love them.”

“Yeah, I imagine they’d be good,” Sebastian grins at him when Mark’s eyes flicker open and it was like it took a lot of effort.

“I love your smile too,” Mark adds and it only has Sebastian’s smile grow. And he doesn’t care if it’s because Mark’s on drugs, he felt like he was given the whole world right in that moment.

 

It’s only when he leaves, does Ann find him. He feels awkward. He has no idea what he should say to her. He’s not sure that there is anything he can say.

“Do you love him?” she asks him bluntly, straight to the point, eyes full of determination.

Sebastian hesitates. “I’m not sure,” he answers honestly.

Ann softens a little at that. “Well I do and I only want Mark to be happy, more than anything. Can you guarantee that Sebastian? Because a Timer doesn’t come with that guarantee.”

Sebastian licks his lips and he shrugs. “I don’t know,” he tells her quietly. “I’m not sure about a lot of things when it comes to Mark. He keeps away from me and he’s made it clear he loves you. And for what it’s worth, I believe that.” Sebastian tugs on the straps of his backpack before he adds, “But one day, Mark will be mine and not yours, and nothing will change that fact. It’s the only guarantee that I do get.”

She nods, her eyes sad, and Sebastian should feel sorry for her, but it’s the truth and he’s not sorry about the truth. “I am aware of that, but you don’t get him Sebastian till I’m sure you’re not going to hurt him.” With that, she turns and walks back to Mark.

Staring after her he lets that sink in before he decides he’s not needed here. Mark had Ann and right now Ann was better for Mark than he was, even if he wished that wasn’t the case. He heads home, with the memory of Mark holding his hand.

*

**December 2008**

It’s not till they’re back home is Mark finally forced to have a conversation with Ann about Sebastian. Or maybe it was more that Ann waited till they were back home to have a conversation about Sebastian, as if she wanted him to be strong enough for an argument.

He’s resting on the couch, leg carefully positioned, dogs next to him on the floor when Ann sits down in arm chair opposite him. “You should have told me about Sebastian.” Straight to the point, no messing about and Mark isn’t surprised, he’d been preparing for this conversation. “I deserved to know Mark.”

“It never mattered who it was,” Mark sighs. “I’m not leaving you for Sebastian Vettel. That isn’t happening.”

“And you can’t live in constant denial,” Ann argues with him. “It’s going to happen. You’ll both inch your way there, whether it’s next month, next year or in a decade. You will get there.”

“Ann,” Mark murmurs shaking his head.

“I don’t want to watch,” Ann lifts her head, meeting his eyes as her voice wavers.

“Please trust me,” Mark begs, how can she have so much doubt in them when he has so much faith?

“Please trust me, I need you to trust me. We can’t keep having this same conversation, the same argument. I’m tired of it and tired of fighting so hard for this,” he confesses and she crumbles at his words. “I love you.”

Ann nods. “I think we should have a break,” she tells him shakily.

She wants a break? When he needed her more than ever? Mark shakes his head, “We’re not having a break, I’m going to end this.” He struggles to sit up as Ann looks completely devastated. He had been prepared, but he can only twist and move so much and his fingers struggle to find the box he had buried the pocket of his jumper.

He gasps at the effort it takes to grab the small velvet box. “We’re ending this and we’re ending the doubt,” Mark tells her firmly and her eyes widen. “I was hoping this would wait till I could do it properly but I nearly died Ann. I was trapped under that car and you were the only person I wanted to be there. You are the only person I want by my side. There has never been anyone else, and I can’t imagine anyone else. It’s you, it has always been just you.” He opens the lid revealing the ring, “I love you Ann. Will you marry me?”

Ann was staring at him speechless and he waits, he’ll wait as long as it takes for her to answer, because no one else was worth waiting for, not even Sebastian Vettel.


	5. 2009

**\- 2009 -**

 

**February 2009**

Sebastian is excited to start the season, he couldn’t wait for it to get here and it seems take forever for testing to arrive. When it does come, when he’s at the circuit, when he’s seeing Mark for the first time, he feels breathless as if he had run all the way to this moment just to stand in front of him. And all he can manage is a goofy grin.

Because they were teammates, because Mark was okay and could walk with his bumpy leg, and because Mark held his hand and said he loved his smile.

“You look like it’s Christmas,” Mark tells him hobbling over. “Calm down.”

“I can’t,” he breathes out bouncing on his toes because not only did he get to see Mark, he was about to get back in an F1 car. Today may as well be Christmas.

They walk to the car to take pictures as Mark tells him, “Try harder.” Sebastian’s grin only widens because it’s not said with malice, in fact there’s amusement in Mark’s eyes and a lightness about him that hadn’t been there before.

Sebastian quite likes it.

**March 2009 – Australian Grand Prix**  
  


Mark most definitely didn’t hate his home own race, it was more that he hated everything that went with a ‘home race’. The extra pressure and expectations, it’s a crushing weight and he’d much rather not have a ‘home race’ if there was a choice. But despite that, it’s good to be back in the paddock, it’s good to be going race again, he felt as if he had all this pent-up energy from his constant restrictions over the off-season due to his accident.

“How’s your leg feel?” Ann asks concerned as they eat lunch together on Thursday.

“It’s great,” he promises her. He’s not sure if he would tell her anything else. She already worried too much. Ann’s eyes move passed him and he follows her gaze to see it linger on Sebastian who had appeared holding a plate with his lunch and looking for somewhere to sit. “Sebastian,” Mark calls him over.

Sebastian looks over surprised, but he joins them, eyes flicking between Mark and Ann, look very unsure.

“Sit,” Mark orders kicking out the chair with his good leg and Sebastian does.

“Hi,” he smiles at Ann, looking nervous.

“Mark, is this necessary?” Ann asks looking like she almost pitied Sebastian.

“Of course it’s necessary,” Mark tells her simply. “Seb and I are teammates, and we’re going to have a good year.” He looks at Sebastian, meeting his eyes. “Aren’t we?”

“Yeah, a good year,” Sebastian nods his head before shovelling food into his mouth.

He wanted to Sebastian to know his place, wanted Sebastian to understand he wasn’t being cruel, but there needed to be lines and boundaries and as he relaxes as Ann asks him about his break, Mark thinks maybe this will all work out.

They could be teammates and function just fine.

*

Sebastian is lying on the bed flicking through TV channels next to Kimi who was casually browsing on his phone. The race was done and Kimi was helping him celebrate his first podium with Red Bull, well had been celebrating, now they were both simply naked in bed.

Kimi lets out a grunt and throws the phone aside looking bored. “How’s Mark?”

Sebastian shrugs hoping to ignore the question, but his face heats up at the mention of his teammate. He can see Kimi roll his eyes at him. “Don’t do that,” Sebastian punches him hard in the side.

“You look like a fucking love-sick puppy,” Kimi was always so damn charming.

Sebastian sucks in a sharp breath trying not to be offended. “We’re just teammates, and things are good.” And they were, testing had gone well, their PR duties had gone well, and Mark had even had lunch with him this weekend, albeit with Ann. But it was like they were _almost_ friends. “Yes, things are nice.”

Kimi won’t stop smirking at him and Sebastian feels unsettled. “What?” he asks exasperated.

“You really think things are so fucking perfect between you two?”

Sebastian slides down on the bed because he was pretty sure Kimi wants to pop all his damn happy balloons. “Can we not talk about this?” he mutters.

Kimi shrugs. “Fine. Keep lying to yourself and I’ll keep my secrets to myself.” Kimi then promptly rolls over and grabs his phone.

Sebastian lays there for a few minutes before he turns off the TV and dives for Kimi’s phone and throwing it across the room. “Fine! I think things between Mark and I are fucking perfect. I like being friends, I can do friends with him just fine. Now tell me your damn secret.”

Kimi was silently laughing at him, can see it in his eyes. “You’re teammates, you’ll never be friends.”

Sebastian grows more incensed. “Are you going to tell me now?”

“Sure,” Kimi looked way too delighted with himself. “I heard Mark got married in the off season.”

Sebastian goes very still. Kimi just popped all his happy balloons fall of hope. “How can you possibly know that?”

“Fernando.”

Sebastian deflates onto the bed, feeling like someone threw a bucket of cold ice water on him.

“Let’s see how long this new friendship of yours lasts now Sebi.” Kimi crawls out of the bed saying he was going to have a shower.

Sebastian can’t even join him, frozen because it can’t be true. Mark can’t marry someone else, that’s just not possible. Mark was meant to marry him and they were meant to live happily ever after! He had a fucking Timer that said that!

 

**April 2009 – Chinese GP**

There’s a definite coolness between him and Sebastian over the last two weekends and Mark doesn’t mind really, but it seems to be forgotten with the team’s first win, it’s the team’s first 1 – 2, it’s like everything gets forgotten in that moment, even if it wasn’t his win, even if now he had to deal with the shiny happy Sebastian that was his weakness. Everyone was going out to celebrate, Christian insisting he join them the moment Mark began to suggest a quiet night in. A quiet night wasn’t on the agenda.

“Go,” Ann tells him waving him off. “I’m going to have a quiet night and you’re going to enjoy yourself.”

Maybe he is getting too old for this, but at least once he’s out, a few drinks later he really is enjoying himself. It’s nice to let your hair down, nice to spend it with the boys who worked so hard to get them to the top steps.

He was at the bar ordering more drinks when Sebastian falls down next to him. “It’s my shout!”

Mark stares at him and his glassy eyes and his inability to not sway. “I think you should lay off the alcohol,” Mark suggests.

“Please, I drink way more with Kimi. I am _fine_.”

Mark pays for the drinks because Sebastian is struggling with his wallet. “Come on mate,” Mark nudges him to head back, and they do, Sebastian clinging to his arm for balance. “I don’t think drinking with Kimi is great idea. I’m sure he drinks you under the table every time.”

“Well I have to practice,” Sebastian explains before they reach the guys and he’s throwing himself at Rocky for more hugs. Clearly Sebastian was a clingy dunk.

At some point Sebastian had dragged him to dance and Mark knew it was a bad idea to agree, but may be too had too much to drink. Sebastian hanging off him, staring up at him as he whispers hotly, “I want you.” Mark freezes, Sebastian face pushed into his neck because after all these years, Sebastian had never been so upfront with him.

“Seb,” Mark warns when Sebastian’s arms tighten around his neck. Mark has to reach up and pry them off him, they were in damn public, but in the darkened club he’s not sure people can see, but that’s hardly an excuse. Free from Sebastian’s strangled grip, he grabs Sebastian’s elbow and drags him towards the bathroom. “Come on,” he orders. Sebastian needed to sober up.

The line is too long so he throws Sebastian into the disabled toilet and locks the door. Sebastian blinks in the harsh light, staring at Mark with dark eyes. “What is wrong with you?” Mark asks in a hissed voice and Sebastian just gives him a smile and moves towards him and Mark orders him to stop.

“I don’t want to stop,” Sebastian’s arms winding back around his neck, pushing his body against his and Mark grips his hips, simply to keep him steady. “We won Mark,” he whispers loudly. “Aren’t you happy we won?”

Mark’s hands stroke his sides. “Yes,” he tells him honestly and this close to Sebastian he can feel it, all that happiness that surrounded him after a win. It was like a bubble and right now he was trapped it in. Would it be so bad to just have a little bit of it? He pushes his face into Sebastian neck and breathes him in. He smells like sweat and champagne.

Sebastian moans and tips his head back, giving Mark more access and he can’t resist. It’s like Monza, except now, all that brightness and that addicting Sebastian was in his arms. Mark pushes his mouth to his throat wanting to taste it, his tongue flicking out against his skin. A strangled noise leaves Sebastian when Mark locks his lip to his pulse and sucks, Sebastian’s legs giving out.

Yes, definitely addicting because Mark’s not sure he can stop. He kisses along his jaw, bites at it as he pushes Sebastian against a tiled wall. Sebastian is making far too much noise, fingers scrabbling for grip on his shoulders. And how bad would it be to take him? To have him just once? His hands slide to his ass, lifting him as he pulls back breathing just as hard as Sebastian.

Sebastian strokes at the stubble on his cheeks. “Don’t stop,” he begs and Mark can’t breathe with Sebastian’s arms and legs around him, not sure how they managed to get so wrapped up together in a matter of minutes, how they can possibly be so desperate so fast?

And when Sebastian tugs his mouth forward to the other side of his throat, Mark doesn’t resist. He was going to mark every inch of his skin, he was going to suck every ounce of happiness from him. He sucks, he bites, he licks, trying to unbutton Sebastian’s shirt to find more skin. Sebastian was now a mess of babbled German, Mark understood nothing, but he was very aware of what Sebastian wanted, grinding his erection into his hip.

“Mark? Sebastian?”

Both drivers still turning to look at the closed door as the sound of Adrian’s voice comes through and Mark’s pretty sure they were both instantly sober. When Sebastian goes to answer, Mark slams his hand over Sebastian’s mouth because they were _definitely_ not going to be seen in here together. Not with Sebastian looking the way he looked right now.

Sebastian licks at his hand and Mark immediately backs away, Sebastian falling ungracefully to the floor.

“We’re going,” Mark states catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror and freezing in absolute horror, he looked just as undone as Sebastian.

“Going?” Sebastian asks, allowing Mark to drag him out, slipping out of the bathroom when the coast was clear. “Christian isn’t going to like that…”

“Yeah well, I don’t care to come up with an excuse, nor do I want to say I was in the bathroom,” Mark says when they escape into the club. They walk in silence, Mark not realising for quite a distance that he was still holding Sebastian’s wrist. He hastily lets it go, only to have Sebastian come to a stop.

“Mark?” Sebastian says his name hesitantly and he turns to look at his teammate that he had not ten minutes earlier had wrapped around him and pressed to a wall where he had been attacking his neck like he wanted to draw blood.

Even in the dark light, he can see the marks he’s left. He knows what questions is coming and he doesn’t want to answer, he doesn’t want to know what this meant, what was….

“Is it true that you and Ann got married over the summer break?”

Mark was wrong, he hadn’t expected that question. He stares at Sebastian not sure what to answer.

“Did you?” Sebastian presses.

“Does it matter?” Mark finally answers.

“Yes, _it matters_ ,” Sebastian snaps. “It fucking matters a lot. Especially if we’re going to start this now.”

“We’re not starting anything now,” Mark practically yelling at him, “That,” he points his finger back towards the club, “Was nothing. One moment fuelled by alcohol…”

“Yes, we’re both very drunk right now,” Sebastian’s sarcasm couldn’t be more obvious. Mark hadn’t failed to note exactly how sober he was now, how much of his antics back there were just a show?

“This isn’t real Sebastian,” Mark states bluntly, trying hard to not care that Sebastian looks he’s been punched square in the face.

Sebastian immediately crosses his arms, like he was hugging himself. “And when is this real then Mark?”

Mark stares hard at Sebastian, trying to think of response rather than drown in his blue eyes that were beginning to water. “This is real when I love you more than her.” Sebastian makes no comment on that and Mark turns on his heel and walks off, refusing to look back. He was going to go back to his hotel room and he was going to forget any of this happened.

**June 2009 – British Grand Prix**

It seems to take a bit for he and Mark to fall back into pretending they were friends after China. And it’s pretending for sure, Kimi was right. They weren’t friends. It’s what they’ll tell themselves where there is no other word to describe them. It takes a little longer for Sebastian to work out what tripped Mark in China.

His win at Silverstone a perfect opportunity to test his theory. He doesn’t approach Mark’s until they’re at Christian’s post-race party, bides his time till he can catch Mark alone, and then he fronts Mark outside with an offer of a beer. Which he takes with a disgruntled thanks.

“I worked it out,” Sebastian smirks at his teammate, very pleased with himself when Mark leans away from him.

“What have you worked out mate?” Mark was looking at him cautiously.

Sebastian brings his beer bottle to his lips and takes a sip. “In Monza when I won, I saw it then I just didn’t get it. And then in China, well that was far more obvious. You weren’t subtle.”

“Sebastian,” Mark’s voice holds a warning as he gets to his feet.

Sebastian leans forward and whispers in his ear, “You like it when I win.” Mark pushes him away and Sebastian stumbles back. Doesn’t matter, doesn’t change anything.

“Keep your distance Sebastian,” Mark snaps.

“You can’t be pissed at me,” Sebastian huffs, “It’s the truth. You like it when I win and you can’t stand that you might want me for even one moment.”

Mark grabs the front of his shirt and jerks him closer, “For the record Seb, I will _always_ prefer that I’m the one winning.”

Sebastian grins. “What if I win every race till the end of the season? Maybe you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”

Mark releases him chuckling. “Is that your plan Seb? Is that how you’re going to win me over?”

“Nope,” Sebastian shakes his head. “I already won you over, I’m just waiting for you to see it. You want me Mark, you wanted me in Monza, you _definitely_ wanted me in China, and you probably want me right now.” He takes another drink of his beer, feeling incredibly chuffed with himself. “I have this in the bag, I’m just going to sit here and wait.” He rocks back on his heels.

“I’m with Ann,” Mark reminds him.

Sebastian sucks in his breath at the reminder, but for the first time he doesn’t spare her feelings. “And I don’t care.”

Mark walks off at that, doesn’t say another word and Sebastian watches him go, not that he could go far, not that he could escape. They were teammates after all.

 

**July 2009 – German Grand Prix**

Mark can’t believe it, can’t fully believe he has won. Even after the podium, after the press conference. It all feels like a dream. He rushes to find Ann, to hug her, to celebrate what they had worked so hard for together. This was theirs and she looks as excited and as jubilant as he does.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers kissing him. “You were amazing.” He can only beam at her, because only she would ever understand what it took to be here, especially after his accident.

When he finally makes it to his driver’s room it’s find Sebastian sitting in there moping. He looks up at Mark and looks annoyed as he stares him up and down. “Seb?”

“I wanted to see if you looked different after a win,” he explains and Mark raises his eyebrows. “You don’t. I just want it for myself.”

“That’s because your selfish,” Mark tells him bluntly undoing his race suit and pushing it down.

“It was my home race, you could have let me have it,” Sebastian pouts.

“And one day you’ll learn you can’t have everything,” Mark grabs a towel and wipes himself off, still sticky from the champagne. “Go find your family,” Mark orders and Sebastian drags himself slowly to his feet at the words giving Mark another once over.

“You definitely are not irresistible,” Sebastian huffs out.

“I’m devastated,” Mark tells him sarcastically as he opens the door for him.

“But if you wanted too…” Sebastian reaches out to touch his stomach, “I won’t say no.” He wanted to make sure his invitation wasn’t subtle.

“And that’s why you have Raikkonen.” He shoves Sebastian out of the door. “See you next race mate.” Mark slams the door on him. He needed a shower.

 

**October 2009 – Brazilian Grand Prix**

He should be celebrating his win, he should be with the team, instead Mark excuses himself from Ann and goes in search of Sebastian, having overheard Christian mention something about him needing a moment. He finds him alone in the motor home, sitting at a table in the corner. Mark sucks in his breath at the hunched shoulders, the tell tale shaking of sobs.

Mark slides into a chair opposite him. “It was impossible to win it you know,” he tries to be rational as Sebastian wipes at his eyes and leaky nose.

“So? People can win the impossible. Kimi did it.” The loud sniffle he gives is literally the most unattractive sound in the world.

“Sure, but that’s like a million to one shot, I don’t think you can bank on that being reality.”

“You won,” Sebastian snaps, “And you are terrible at cheering me up.”

“Angry is better than crying,” Mark tries to coax a smile from him but gets an angry glare. “Seb, there is next year,” Mark reaches out to squeeze his hand. “And there’s still one more race.”

Sebastian nods, wiping his eyes again with the sleeve of his racing suit to dismiss the new tears. Sucking in a few deep breaths he composes himself. “You still don’t look irresistible after a win.”

Mark shrugs unable to hide his smile. “So, I guess we all have our weaknesses.”

“You’re meant to want to win,” Sebastian cocks his head at him trying to understand.

“I do mate, and I’ll never let you have one,” Mark promises him and when Sebastian goes to speak Mark holds up his hand. “Seb, please drop it, I don’t have an answer, some people just have weird kinks.”

Sebastian grins, clearly brightening. “I’m a kink?” He leans back rocking in his chair. “I like being your kink.”

Mark rolls his eyes and stands up. “Of course you do.” Sebastian wasn’t crying, seemingly a little cheerier, his job was done.

“Mark,” Sebastian says before he can walk off. “We’re getting closer,” he tells him seriously, smiles gone as he looks at him seriously. “Inch by inch.”

“You keep marking the milestones Seb,” he squeezes his shoulder. “There’s a lot of fucking inches to go.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees, “But this is real.”

Mark withdraws his hand and shakes his head. “No Seb, it’s only real in your head.” He goes to find Ann then, they had another win to celebrate.

 

**November 2009 – Abu Dhabi Grand Prix**

“What happens next year?” Sebastian asks Kimi when he opens the door for him after the race. It’s a question he hadn’t dared ask prior to this moment. Kimi was his best friend here, and he didn’t want to think about him not being there when he needed someone.

“I’m going to do rally,” Kimi answers simply.

“Yes, I know that,” Sebastian bites his lip as Kimi closes the door behind him. “But what happens with us?”

“There is no us Sebastian,” Kimi reminds him bluntly of that point.

“Do you really have no feelings for me?” Was it possible that he really was that unwantabled, that unlovable? He knows Mark things that but still. Kimi was staring at him hard his expression even more unreadable than usual. “Kimi?” he presses.

“We’re friends Sebastian, I thought that was clear?” Kimi seems cautious and Sebastian chews on his lip nervously. “And you’re in love with Webber.”

Sebastian stands there staring back at Kimi, because he didn’t say he didn’t have feelings. “Mark married someone else,” he says bitterly.

Kimi purses his lips, eyes narrowing. “I’m not going to be your second choice. I’m not anyone’s second choice.”

Sebastian shakes his head confused. “We have been sleeping together all year, it’s not any different.”

“Yes it is, if you’re asking about _us_ this is now very different,” Kimi answers sharply. “I’m not going to be in the middle.”

Sebastian clenches his fist. “Kimi, for the millionth time, it’s me, you and Mark.” He tries to wave that with his hands, “You are the middle.”

“No Sebastian, you keep putting me in the middle and that’s why there is no us,” Kimi’s voice is clipped and he actually looks hurt. “I think you should go.”

“Are you throwing me out?” Sebastian looks at him in disbelief. “It’s our last weekend together!”

“There’s next year,” Kimi shrugs. “I’m sure you’ll annoy me even if we’re not racing together.”

“Fine,” Sebastian stalks to the door and throws it open. “I won’t send you _any_ annoying text messages.”

Kimi rolls his eyes. “Yes you will,” he calls after Sebastian. “I’m not that lucky!”

 

**December 2009 – Redbull Christmas Party**

Unlike last year, Mark gets to celebrate Christmas with the team, and he’s enjoying himself immensely. He can also eat anything wants and was taking the opportunity to load up his plate with one of everything. He looks up at his name being hissed to Sebastian waving him over from the door. The constant thorn in his side, he takes his plate with him as he follows Seb, eating as he goes because he was famished.

“What mate?” he asks when they stop in the hallway away from the bustling party, the music barely audible they’d wandered so far.

“I got you a gift.” Sebastian beams at him holding a present up that had been wrapped with just as much sticky tap as Santa Christmas paper.

Mark smiles at the gesture, passing him his plate so he can unwrap it. “Does it need so much tape?”

“How else will it stick?” Sebastian asks.

Mar has to use his teeth, figures it will be safe because he’s fairly sure it’s a CD. “Stop picking at my food,” Mark tells as he finally manages to get to the paper to rip it off. “Learn in your car German?” he raises his eyebrows.

“Ja,” Sebastian nods, “So you can learn German, for you know… later.”

Mark rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything. “Thanks. I didn’t get you a gift.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Sebastian’s cheeks are suddenly flushed pink and his eyes dart up and Mark looks up to see their under mistletoe.

“Really?” he shouldn’t be surprised.

“It’s Christmas Mark,” Sebastian reminds him.

“Yes, and I’m sure it’s your favourite holiday,” Mark responds.

Sebastian grins proudly, “It is!”

“It wasn’t meant as a compliment,” Mark mutters taking his plate back, he walks over and puts it on the table. “One platonic kiss?” Mark wants to clarify that point.

“Purely platonic,” Sebastian agrees, head nodding and his cheeks even pinker.

“It’s going to be the cheapest present I get anyone this year,” Mark moves back to him dipping his head to kiss him.

“I want a proper one,” Sebastian tells him hurriedly.

“Shut up Seb,” Mark murmurs, sliding an arm around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Kay,” he whispers and Mark watches as he closes his eyes, lips parting in invitation and Mark leans forward and brushes his lips against his gently. It’s nice, his lips are soft and the most pleasant sigh left Sebastian at the simple touch.

Mark closes his eyes and kisses him again, firmer, this time allowing Sebastian to kiss him back. Seb’s hand winds around his neck, buries in his head and pulls him closer and Mark lets him. It’s nice, it’s not as foreign as Mark expected. Sebastian’s tongue brushes his lips and Mark gasps, heat rushing through him at the unexpected action and it’s the only invitation Sebastian needs to be bolder.

Mark groans, pulling him closer, tongue brushing Sebastian’s and he loses any semblance of control. They twist tighter, kissing harder, and Mark’s lung burn for air but he doesn’t want to stop, not yet. He wants more, but Sebastian is pulling away, eyes wide and glazed over.

“Okay,” he pants, “That was good. We should stop. Before it’s not platonic.”

“Right,” Mark nods breathing hard, thumbing coming up to brush the red swollen lips of his teammate. He desperately wants to kiss him again.

Sebastian’s eyes seem to focus, and he blinks up at Mark, who was staring at him like he wanted to devour him. “This is real Mark,” he whispers against his thumb. “This is fucking real.”

Mark pulls his hand back when Sebastian kisses the pad of his thumb, feeling not at all his self, insides trembling. And for the first time ever he doesn’t deny it instead he says, “Maybe.” He needs some space. “Merry Christmas Seb.” He turns and grabs his plate, his CD and heads back to the safety of the party.

This was all going to blow over. It was one kiss. It meant nothing. Sebastian meant nothing. Except when Sebastian joins him, Mark stares at him across the room, feeling like Sebastian’s gaze was burning his insides. But it was still nothing.


	6. 2010

****

**\- 2010 -**

 

From the moment the season starts, they’re both aware of the tension between them, all because of their very much unspoken about kiss at the end of last year. Mark’s very aware that kiss had sparked something between them and nothing he did could extinguish that flame, just as he was sure he had stamped it out Sebastian walk past him, eyes bright and with a shy smile and that flame was back, hotter than ever.

 

There’s too much touching, that’s what Sebastian thinks. Whenever they’re together there always seems to be a reason to touch. Mark pressed into his side like it was the most casual thing, sitting next to each other in team briefings, Sebastian running his fingers over Mark’s thigh till his fingers are caught and held in Mark’s hand but never released. It all feels like too much when there’s literally barely anything between them.

 

**April 2010 – Malaysia Grand Prix**

The moment Sebastian is done with post-race commitments he flees from Britta and straight back to the energy station. He’s breathless, and full of nerves when he sees Mark leaning against the wall talking to the guys, watching the door like he was waiting for him. Sebastian’s mouth goes dry.

Mark excuses himself and goes to Sebastian, walking over and hugging him hard. “Congratulations.” It’s genuine, it’s real and Mark was breathing him in, indulging in his win and his fucked up kinks.

“Thanks,” he rasps shakily, holding him to him and not wanting to step back. “We should go somewhere private,” he suggests, and yes, he sounds desperate because he’s not sure how much more he can take.

Mark laughs and steps back. “I’m not a fucking idiot Sebastian. I’m not going to let you burn everything around us to the ground because you’re not thinking with your head.”

Sebastian stares at him hard trying to calm himself back down. “At this point, I think burning it all down seems like a great fucking idea.” He walks away then and when he looks back Mark is watching him and he shivers. Things were already burning.

**May 2010**

 

**Spanish Grand Prix**

When Mark gets back to the hotel, celebrations for his first win of the season done, he’s only half surprised to Sebastian leaning next to his hotel room door, swinging his paddock pass around on his finger. He should be annoyed, he shouldn’t be excited to see him here.

“Sebastian,” Mark greets and Sebastian looks up and grins at him. “You already gave me your congratulations,” Mark reminds him.

“Ja, but I was thinking,” he starts and Mark cuts him off.

“You thinking is probably not a good idea.” Mark leans with arm on the wall next Sebastian. Ann was inside waiting for him and inviting Sebastian in was probably not going to work out well for any of them.

“I was thinking,” Sebastian repeats with annoyed glance, “That we have both won a race this season. We are working together and even sharing wins,” he grins now at Mark. “We are being _very_ good teammates.”

Mark snorts and does nothing to stop Sebastian moving closer, looking up at him from behind long lashes.

“I’m trying to say, we can do this Mark, it’s not _impossible_.”

“Is that what you think?” Mark looks amused. “We’re not even halfway.”

“But we’re getting on, we’re making this work,” Sebastian whispers and his fingers drop to Mark’s hip, worming its way under his t-shirt just to touch skin and Mark falls into him. “Invite me in,” Sebastian whispers.

Mark grabs his hand and pulls it away. “Ann here, and you’re not seeing the big picture.”

“Yes I am,” Sebastian answers definitely. “And there’s no one in my room.”

“Good night Sebastian.” Mark steps around him to open his door.

“Mark,” he says before he can disappear inside, “You won’t keep saying no,” and he touches his Timer very deliberately.

Mark knows he was right, but it’s not tonight. “Goodnight Sebastian.”

 

**Monaco 2010**

There’s something different about this win. Mark’s win in Monaco, the team’s 1-2. There’s an energy through-out the whole team, and Sebastian feeds off, can feel it in Mark. They hold hands and jump into the ocean, they nearly drown together from the weight of their racing overalls, but it doesn’t dim anything. And stumbling back to solid ground, dripping wet when he looks at Mark, he knows Mark won’t say no to him this weekend.

He doesn’t even have to ask Mark, doesn’t need to put himself out there and remind Mark about their inevitability, not this weekend. Mark simply leaves with him, heads back to the hotel with him with so much tension between them, Sebastian is literally shaking.

They’re barely out of the elevator, still in the hotel hallway when they fall against each other, Mark pressing into him and he’s pushed against a wall. “Mark,” it’s all he can get out before Mark presses his mouth to his. Sebastian gasps, lips parted and desperate as everything burns between them.

Sebastian’s not sure if it’s him that’s shaking, Mark or the both of them as they kiss furiously, holding on and stumbling down the hall. It’s so fucking good and perfect, the words tumble out between their kisses, no filter at all in place, “I love you,” he pants, lips back on Mark’s.

“Yes,” Mark breaths back and Sebastian has him against the wall next to his hotel room door, but opening it would mean stopping.

“This is going to work,” he tells Mark who was sliding his hands under his shirt.

“Yes,” Mark’s hands were like fire on his skin and he whimpers dropping his room card to kiss Mark again. Maybe they could remain out here?

“We’re going to be together,” Sebastian tells him as Mark attacks his neck and he grinds against Mark’s hip for relief. “I want you.”

Mark’s hands are now in his hair pushing his head back, “Yes, I want you too.” Mark bites at his lips, licks his way back into his mouth until Sebastian is sure he’s going to melt into the floor.

“Sebastian!”

Both of them fly apart, eyes wide and with panicked faces to see Tommi standing there looking stunned, Britta next to him looking between them in disbelief.

“Mark was walking me back to my room,” Sebastian rushes and Mark was scooping up his room card holding it up like it was evidence, and Sebastian can only hope he didn’t look anything like Mark’s dishevelled and guilty appearance.

“I’m going to go,” Mark says handing Sebastian his room key, not even looking at him before he disappears leaving Sebastian to stare at his trainer and assistant.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tommi demands. “In a hallway? He’s married!”

“Thank you for that reminder Tommi, I didn’t know,” Sebastian is furious, not at being told off, but because they interrupted and he wasn’t finished with Mark yet. He doubted they would be able to just pick things back up if he was to go after Mark now.

“Seb,” Britta’s voice is softer but she looks just as disappointed.

“You can both just leave me alone. I’m not talking about this with either of you.” He opens his door and slams it closed. He digs out his phone and hesitates as he texts Mark.

_We still have unfinished business._

He chews his lips wondering if Mark will reply, he lets out a shaky breath because he doesn’t have to wait for the one worded response that comes through.

_Yes_.

 

**Turkish Grand Prix**

They crash into each other. The end. There’s no other story from this weekend that needs to be mentioned.

If Mark wasn’t so furious maybe he would laugh at this whole situation. At Sebastian practically going off at Christian, pointing at him like he was the devil incarnate. Christian decides the post race debrief will wait, and he tells them both to pack and leave.

Sebastian’s furious gaze is on him, they were definitely not going for post race drinks and now was not the time to tell Sebastian ‘I told you so’ when it came to them and all his warnings. Not in this moment when he needed to escape as much as his teammate.

He leaves with Ann, getting away from Sebastian was just as important as getting away from the team. From Christian who seemed to be so fully on Sebastian’s side that it fucking hurt. He spends the trip back to the UK vindicating himself by reading comments from the TV pundits and fans. He wasn’t alone in his belief this was Sebastian’s fuckup.

 

Only Sebastian can’t admit. Not even a week after the race. The team debrief that takes place at the factory is more of an opportunity for Sebastian to rant and more of an opportunity for the heads of Red Bull to show who they really cared about – their damn golden boy.

When they leave the room, Mark grabs Sebastian. “Do you know what you have gone and done?” he asks voice shaking with a quiet rage. Sebastian doesn’t answer, just jerks his arm back, “You’ve gone and burned everything down because you can’t admit you fucked up.”

“No Mark,” Sebastian snaps at him, “You’ve gone and fucked it up because you drove me off the fucking track. I don’t forgive you and I will never forgive you.”

They’re then forced to pose for that damn awful photo. Mark doesn’t even want to be in the same frame as him, and if he’s asked to get any closer to his bloody teammate he’s going to punch him.

“Done?” he asks the PR guys. He can’t wait to see what shit they spin from this.

“Mark,” Christian moves towards him.

“Don’t talk to me,” he snaps at his team principal. “You’ve made it clear where this team stands.” Christian sighs but makes no other moves to stop him from leaving.

When he finally leaves the factory, Mark’s not sure who he’s more angry at – Sebastian for not admitting his fault, the team who seems incapable of being on his side, or himself, for letting things go this far and for one moment, one tiny instance believing this wasn’t the only possible outcome. And getting home, he decides it’s definitely himself.

**June 2010**

It’s only when they’re back from Canada does Mark finally talk to Ann, not about Turkey, but about Monaco. It’s not about clearing his conscious, it’s because he had promised he would tell her if something happened and he hoped in someway it would help her understand his anger, his emotions. He had so many conflicting emotions it made his head hurt.

“Maybe you need some time Mark,” Ann suggests quietly after he finishes talking.

Mark looks up from the edge of the bed and where she was leaning on the dresser keeping her distance. “What do you mean?”

“Space. Maybe we should take a break.”

Fuck. Mark rubs his face before he pushes the heels of his palms into his eyes. He looks up after a moment. “No,” he shakes his head. “I need you, I need someone on my side.”

“Mark,” Ann murmurs, “I am always on your side.”

“I’m sorry,” he tells her again.

“I think a small break will be good, to clear your head. You go to Valencia alone. I will be here when you come home. I promise.” Her smile is forced and he knows he has hurt her, he’s not even sure how to fix that. But if space is what she needed, he’d go to Valencia without her.

**European** **Grand Prix (Valencia)**

They’re still not talking to each other, and Sebastian is perfectly fine with that. Especially with all the comments Mark drops to the media, about the team and about him. If he never spoke to Mark Webber again that would be perfectly fine.

And then Mark tried to turn his car into an aeroplane, and somersaulted in the air. Not talking didn’t seem high on the list then. He doesn’t let himself think too much when he goes to Mark’s hotel room. When Mark opens the door he looks exhausted and sore. Mark stares at him and Sebastian hopes he’s not waiting for an apology, he didn’t come here to say sorry, he just needed…

When he reaches for Mark, when he wraps his arms around him, Mark doesn’t stop him and when the doors closed behind them, Mark’s arm curl around him slowly and cautiously. Not looking at him, face pressed to Mark’s chest he whispers, “I’m pleased your okay and not dead.”

There’s no response from Mark, but there’s a shudder that goes through him, and the arms around him tighten.

 

Mark isn’t sure why didn’t kick out Sebastian, why he let him stay the night, lets Sebastian strangle him in sleep and poke at all the sore spots on his body. He’s not sure of anything when it comes to them at this point. He’s not sure either of them slept very well. In the morning Mark watches as Sebastian pulls on his socks and shoes.

“You know your just as fucking clingy in your sleep as you are in real life,” he comments.

Sebastian looks up at him, and eyes holding hurt and he doesn’t have a snappy comeback. Instead he says, “I’m pleased you’re okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” Mark tells him and Sebastian nods. “We’re not okay,” Mark wants him to remember that, makes sure he understands that this changes nothing.

“Not right now,” Sebastian agrees quietly, “But we will be.” His voice holds none of his earlier conviction like he had in the past, but maybe he was tired? Mark didn’t care and he was just pleased to have Sebastian out of his hotel room.

He was even happier to go home. To Ann, who as promised was waiting for him, looking relieved to be able to hold him again.

 

**July 2010 – British Grand Prix**

The whole wing debacle is blown up far more than is needed. It’s ridiculous and Mark giving the metaphorical finger to the team after his was win was just fucking childish. Which is ironic with how many times Mark liked to refer to _his_ maturity to the press, so quick to take a damn dig.

“You’re wrong.” That’s what he tells Mark when they’re alone after race and Mark barely acknowledges him as he follows him to his drivers room. “They’re not all against you, the team. You’re going to fuck it up if you don’t let this go.”

Mark whirls around in the door way, glaring at Sebastian. “There’s nothing left to fuck up Sebastian,” he snaps at him.

Sebastian grabs his face and kisses him hard, he pulls away because Mark doesn’t kiss him back. “Stop lying to yourself Mark.”

“Stay away from me Sebastian.”

**August 2010 – Belgium Grand Prix**

There’s so many cracks between them and Sebastian isn’t sure how to mend them or to stop the iciness that falls between them all. The season is not how he imagined, and all the early season tension has intensified and twisted into something very different. He tries not to think about it too much, tries to let things play out, but with each race that passes, they were further apart than ever.

He looks up surprised to see Ann looking down at him as he sat alone in the paddock. She falls into the seat opposite him. “Sebastian,” she smiles pleasantly before she takes off her shades and folds them carefully in front of her.

“Hi,” he blinks not exactly sure what there was to say to Ann.

“You and I had a conversation once, in the hospital after Mark’s accident,” she tells him calmly. “Do you remember?”

Sebastian nods, “Ja.”

“Well you’re not winning any damn points with me,” Ann is blunt in her delivery. “If you want Mark, you need to back off right now. You need to give him space.”

“I don’t need your advice,” Sebastian snaps. “You’re not on my side.”

Ann has the nerve to laugh at him. “Sebastian, I told you I would not stand in your path, but I know Mark. I know him better than you do and if you want any chance of cleaning this mess up –“

“I think I know Mark just fine,” Sebastian bites back.

“You think you love him? Wanting to fuck him is not love Sebastian, it’s not knowing someone. You won’t seduce your way to his heart?”

“It didn’t work so bad in Monaco,” he tells her and yes, he wanted to be mean and he wants to shock her, but she doesn’t look it. Instead she picks up her shades and puts them back on.

“Mark is right, this isn’t the time for this,” Ann gives him a tight smile. “Have a good race Sebastian.

Sebastian glares after her. What could she possibly know? He was doing just fine with this on his own. Mark hadn’t glared at him so far this weekend, he’d just walked past him like he didn’t exist. They were improving. A bit.

 

**November 2010 – Abu Dhabi Grand Prix**

Mark can’t feel anything right now at Sebastian’s win, and not just the race. He shakes off Ann’s suggestion that they go back to hotel. He can’t, not just yet. He needs something. And seeing Sebastian celebrate, seeing Sebastian bask in a win was not what he wanted. No, he wants to break Sebastian, he wasn’t to crush him.

It’s Christian that manages to pull him away from the media, from the team, from everyone so he can have a moment. He had never felt so overwhelmed before. He thinks he might still be crying. Alone in the small room that was his, he stares at the trophy on his desk. There it was, that one prize he was waiting for, that one thing he’d been waiting for, working for. That was it, _this_ was it.

Shakily he reaches out, reaching to touch it. His fingers brush across the top of the trophy at the same instant there was a knock at his door. He snatches his hand back like it burned.

He expected it to be his father, or Tommi, or maybe Britta… he wasn’t expecting it to be Mark standing there, already dressed and showered. And Sebastian forgets how to breathe, isn’t sure that was possible when Mark was staring at him so intensely, gaze burning so heatedly there was no mistaking that Mark wanted him to catch on fire and burn in hell. And right now, Sebastian would, if that would go an inch in righting them. He opens his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, maybe to apologise, but it doesn’t matter, he never gets the chance.

 

“Don’t,” Mark orders, stepping into the room and forcing Sebastian to step back hurriedly, keeping the space between them. “Don’t you dare fucking say anything if you are even thinking to apologise. That’s not how this works, that’s not how we work.”

“I’m not sorry I beat you,” Sebastian states.

There’s a twinge in Mark’s chest at that, but he hadn’t expected differently. Had he? He glances at the first place trophy that sat on the desk, and the jealousy the rises in his throat is bitter. He tears his gaze back to the expectant his teammate, still sanding in his racesuit, albeit it was wrapped around his hips.

“Mark,” Sebastian says his name carefully, licking his lips. “It’s over now. I mean, things will be better.”

Mark laughs hollowly at those words. Things will be better? Is that really how Sebastian saw this unfolding? That things would just be okay now that the season was done and he won? He was still that same fucking kid that drove into him in Fuji, still understood _nothing_. Mark reaches for him, grabs at his nomex shirt and yanks him closer.

He can feel Sebastian’s breath hitch, can feel the tremble in him as his hands come up to grasp his shoulders, fingers curling and digging in. Mark drops his head and breathes him in, he smells of sweat, champagne; he reeks of victory, there was no other way to describe it. It was as disgusting now as it was in Monza and all for all those other wins.

 “Mark?” Sebastian tries to lift his head, then tries to pull him down, tries to press closer when Mark shoves him backwards. He lets out a gasp when he’s slammed into the wall, and Mark pushes his face into his neck and breathes him in. It’s like digging your fingers into a wound, Sebastian right now was wrapped in _his_ victory, _his_ win, in everything that Mark wanted since he had first known what the word race was.

He was so close, so close he could smell it; he breathes him in. He so close he could touch; his hands push at Sebastian’s race suit, push it down his hips. He was so close he could taste; his teeth sink into Sebastian’s neck, the hiss of pain in response making Mark sink his teeth in deeper, tongue then soothing the imprint.

Sebastian has a leg around him, hands pulling him closer, in his hair, pulling at his shirt for grip, panting loudly. And Mark can’t stop himself, he moves from one patch of flesh to the next, he wants to mark it all, wants to suck away any trace of the win, it should be his, it all should be his. His mouth moves towards his as he does.

Mark stares at Sebastian, he looked blissed out, he looked _high_ , pupils blown wide, mouth slack as he moaned. And Mark was aware that Sebastian was rubbing his erection against his thigh.

“Look at you,” Mark spits out, he tugs harder on Sebastian’s hair. And yeah, those tears were fresh. “You fucking reek. Golden little Red Bull prodigy.” Mark lets his head go, hands moving to push down his underwear, as Sebastian shakes his head meekly, mouthing ‘no’ in response, apparently unable to voice a reply.

“Sure you are,” Mark wraps his hand around Sebastian’s cock, squeezes it hard. “I bet you offered yourself up to all of them. Sold yourself for favours. And who could say no?”

Sebastian opens his mouth, but Mark twists his hands, slides his thumb through the precum bubbling at the tip and then there’s no denial, only hoarse German and Sebastian trying to buck into his grip. Mark moves his hand, slicking up his grip as he does, keeping it tight and fast.

“Come on Seb,” Mark taunts, “I want to see you come. I want to see you break.”

Sebastian can only choke on a gasped moan, again shaking his head before he manages to say, “Nein.”

“Look at me,” Mark orders, and when Sebastian doesn’t comply, Mark ceases his movements.

Sebastian’s eyes snap open with a whine. And those perfect blue eyes, they’re wet, leaking tears, filled with lust and despair, and possibly hatred. Mark thinks he has never looked more beautiful… he dips his head to kiss him, but Sebastian recoils, head snapping back and banging into the wall. Mark laughs, and returns to moving his hand, slowly, pressing his lips to Sebastian’s ear instead.

Sebastian’s teeth plunge into his bottom lip, biting hard as he cries get louder and Mark’s grip falters when Sebastian’s hand covers his, forcing him to up the pace. “I _hate_ you,” Mark taunts, but he obliges the request, hand moving faster and faster, Sebastian barely managing to keep his noises down, as he rushes to edge of his orgasm. Mark feels Sebastian’s hips snap forward one last time before he goes stiff.

Mark lifts his head, watches Sebastian’s lips part, mouth open in a silent cry as he shatters, cock throbbing before Mark feels his cum covering his hand, and he slows his pace till he was just gripping him.

Sebastian was mumbling in German, body shivering as Mark holds him up on his feet. Mark watches him slowly return, and as he does, that happiness, that victory that had seemingly shone from him wasn’t so bright.

“Let go,” Sebastian orders, voice shaking.

Mark releases his cock, wiping his hand on Sebastian’s nomex shirt in the process before stepping back from him. “Congratulations,” Mark tells him, tone far from genuine, and Sebastian flinches, but he doesn’t look away.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Sebastian tells him, but he doesn’t sound so sure, and Mark can see his hands tremble when pulls up his pants and overalls. Mark shakes his head, Sebastian understood _nothing_. “It doesn’t erase the zeroes, doesn’t mean this isn’t real, doesn’t mean you aren’t mine. You are, _we still are_.”

Mark stares at him a moment longer, soaking up the image of a not quite convinced Sebastian, a slightly tarnished Sebastian… And then he turns and opens the door without another word.

“Mark?” Sebastian calls after him. “Mark!” Sebastian raises his voice and Mark shoves his hands into his pockets and doesn’t stop. Sebastian screams, “This changes nothing! This is real! This is still real!” Mark doesn’t look back. And then there’s no more, there’s just silence and it was like he had finally found peace. It almost made everything okay.

*

Wrapping up the press commitments, going to Austria… it was all the things Mark had wanted to be over since the end of the race. But now, as he steps through his front door, his breathing leaving him in shudders, maybe he shouldn’t have rushed home. Maybe he should have been forced to keep up the front, keep up the mask.

The house was empty, quiet. Ann wasn’t here, there was no one but him and he’s increasingly ragged breaths. He pushes himself to keep moving, he wasn’t going to break in front of the door. He blinks his vision back into focus as he goes to dump his gear, blinks again when there are more tears, standing in front of the fridge. He pushes his face against the cool stainless steel.

“Don’t break,” he whispers to himself. “Don’t break.” Maybe if he kept repeating it, maybe it would be enough. Maybe. Why won’t his chest stop hurting? Why won’t his heart stop hurting? Why won’t any of it just fucking stop?

One choked sob is all that is released before the front door opens. “Mark?” Ann’s voice cuts in, and he’s forced to suck in his breath, bottle it all back up. “Are you back?”

The scurrying of paws, excited tails whacking against walls and furniture has Mark smile and he drops down when the dogs rush at him. He hugs them hard, lets them lick his face before he buries his face in them. Yes it was good to be home. To be loved. To be wanted.

“You okay?” Ann drops her keys and Mark raises his gaze knowing if he answered, truth or a lie he’d break. Mark stands back up and hugs her hard instead, one that is returned. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs and Mark only closes his eyes and repeats in his head, ‘don’t break’.

*

Everything after his win in Abu Dhabi makes Sebastian’s life a blur. There’s far too many commitments to count, barely a moment to breathe. Shoved from here to there, seemingly endless functions that leave him with no time to dwell on anything but his title win. He was world champion, and that thought consumes him totally, and there’s no one that won’t remind him.

And if he’s honest with himself, he laps it up, enjoys every moment, and why shouldn’t he? He won the one thing he had dreamt about, spent his whole life working to achieve. There was no reason to regret anything. None.

It’s not till December that his life feels like it stills, the rush and urgency finally ending and he can breathe. He finds himself standing in the kitchen at his home in Switzerland, doing just that. Breathing. He was home. He was alone. His phone beeps with a message and pulls it from his pocket to read the message from Kimi.

He ignores the invite and heads upstairs, leaving his phone and the invitation behind. He needed a moment. In his room, he pushes his door closed with the weight of his body and breathes out, “I won.” His mouth twitches up into an almost smile before he looks down at his wrist. The zeroes plastered on his Timer stare back at him mockingly.

His finger moves to touch them, hovering above the face before he clenches his hand and jerks it back. No more thoughts of Mark, no more. He won and that was more important, right now that had to be more important. Tilting his head back, he swallows thickly, the memory of their encounter in Abu Dhabi rush back, tears burn behind his eyelids, and he squeezes them back.

“I won. It doesn’t matter, I won.” He repeats it to himself till he can open his eyes with no tears. He won and he was happy. He was ecstatic and nothing else matter. Nothing.

 

**December 2010**

“I don’t think I can do another year,” Mark finally lets out the thoughts that had been swirling in his head since he got home. Ann looks up from wrapping the last minute gifts she had rushed to get.

“Mark,” she gives him that look that says ‘you don’t mean that’.

And Mark wonders if she really understood, if she knew how much pain he was in, if she understood he lost more than a championship. And this wasn’t to question their relationship, but there had been more at stake this year than a trophy.

“Its only been a few weeks, you need to let it go, stop thinking about it, enjoy the holidays. Worry about racing at the end of January,” she tells him simply. “It will be a new year, a new start.” She reaches over to touch his hand and Mark pulls it back, pursing his lips and walking off.

She didn’t understand. She was so sure the pain would fade, that everything would just go back to ‘normal’. But he’s not sure he’d had normal since Sebastian became his teammate. He stalks to the kitchen and puts the kettle on. Leaning on the bench his eyes drifted to his wrist, his zeroed timer staring back. Would it ever stop tormenting him?

He reaches to touch it, finger rubbing all those zeroes that brought what felt like everyone else endless happiness. Those zeroes represented not a single ounce of happiness; it was a lost championship, broken team relationship, destroyed hope… He pushes a fingernail under the edge and pulls it. It doesn’t budge. This time he curls his fingers under the edge, trying to pry it this time with force. There’s a flicker of pain before his fingers lose their grip and slip free.

“Mark can I have a cuppa?”

“Kettle’s on,” he calls back, walking to the cutlery drawer and yanking it open. He grabs a butter knife to start with, digging it in, trying to pry out his Timer and his fucking fate. He has to clench his jaw to stop from crying out. He feels something dislodge and his arm explodes with pain. He can barely breathe as he tries to yank it the last of the way but it’s stuck.

He dumps the knife and fumbles for something sharp, because this pain was torture. He shoves the knife into his wrist, digging it out, blood running down his arm and fingers, dripping onto the floor. He stabs again and again. But the pain gets worse, but it’s just one more cut, one more slice of skin and wires and his timer falls to the ground. There’s blood everywhere, but Mark doesn’t notice, he’s been swallowed by pain and none of it was coming from his arm.

He holds his wrist, tries to stem the bleeding. Maybe he cried, maybe he had screamed because Ann is next to him, on the phone with one hand, the other pushing towels into his wrist. He can’t hear her though as he drops to the ground. He can’t hear anything. All he sees is blue – blue cars, blue overalls, blue eyes.  He can feel his heart beat, can feel the blood pump through his veins, and as the blood flows free, so does all the hurt and pain. His breathing becomes shallow, but it didn’t hurt to keep going now.

Everything was going to be okay now. Everything was going to be okay.

 

*

 

He was visiting his parents, spending a few days with them before he headed to Milton Keynes for the Red Bull Christmas party. He was enjoying the time to catch up, he feels like he hasn’t seen them in forever, not really, not where he could focus on them, just _be with them_. It was nice, it was more than nice.

“You sure you want to do this?’ Sebastian grins at his little brother as they stretch on the front lawn in the cold morning air.

“Yep,” Fabian grins. “And don’t you dare let me win.”

“Ha, as if I would allow you to win,” Sebastian smirks back. It was a friendly challenge. What was meant to be his morning run turning into a race with his brother who seemed eager to lap as much of his time as possible. And Sebastian didn’t mind.

“Ready?” Sebastian asks.

“Ja.”

Sebastian bolts then, doesn’t wait, ignores his brother’s shouted claims he cheated as he runs on their designated route. When he glances behind him he can see that Fabian wasn’t too far back, keeping up for longer than Sebastian thought possible. And it stays like that for the next twenty minutes, till their rounding the corner for the last stretch of their race. And just as Sebastian is contemplating whether or not to let Fabian have the win he hears the beeping. His Timer.

He lifts his wrist before coming to a dead stop. Timer’s don’t beep after you zeroed out. Timer’s beeped three times. Once when your countdown started, again to signify the day you met your soul mate, and then one last time when you first make eye contact. The fourth beep…

Sebastian feels all the air rush out of him the same moment Fabian flies past him. His Timer was blank. All those neat zeroes that had been there since 2006 replaced with nothing, not even dashes. He grasps his wrists, squeezing it tightly. “Mark…”

“Sebastian!” Fabian shouts at him, and Sebastian raises his eyes to his brother up ahead, “Come on you loser!”


	7. 2011

**\- 2011 -**

 

Sebastian stares at the Red Bull factory. It was his first official appearance for the new season. And the usual pre-season excitement was currently being overshadowed by pure dread. This was going to be the first time he’d seen Mark since their post season duties last year. The first time he’d see Mark since he’d ripped out this Timer, his attempt of ripping him out of his life.

He’s leaning against his car, trying to calm his breathing and push down all those feelings that were stuck in his throat in an awkward lump. It had been four weeks since Ann had called him to assure him Mark was alive and not dead – as if that was the better option, as if knowing Mark would risk his life, his career to saw out his Timer was the better choice. Four weeks to stop feeling like he was broken, four weeks to learn to be okay again.

And he was. He was very okay. “I’m okay,” he breathes out and moves towards the Red Bull headquarters. “I’m okay.” He keeps repeating it, drilling it into his head so the moment he walks through the front doors, he was the smiling and current reigning wold champion. That thought helps, it warms him up, dulls the heart wrenching ache in his chest that his win, his dream of being a champion had resulted in him losing out on another.

He heads straight to Christian’s office where’s hugged hard and wished a Happy New Year. “I hope you’re well rested,” Christian grins letting him go. “We have to do it all again this year.”

“Of course,” Sebastian grins.

“We’re going to have a team debrief in about thirty minutes,” Christian tells him. “Mark’s already here and said he wanted to see you first. He’s in the boardroom. I’ll have Britta give you your schedule when your done.” Christian smiles and it takes a lot of effort to not let his own waver. The dread was back, the lumpy shard in his throat was back.

“Kay,” he forces out and walks to the boardroom, feet dragging because he has no idea what to expect, and yet somehow he knows, and there are tears threatening to spill as he steps into the room.

 

Mark was waiting, left arm lying on the table as he moved his fingers, checking that the feeling really was back in his hand, checking that he could move his fingers. Consequences of his actions hadn’t really been measured when he was hacking away his arm, only being faced with the words ‘severed nerves and tendons’ when he was in hospital.

He was lucky the doctors had told him. There was little damage and the pins and needles he felt in his fingers would fade. And when he’d gotten home, Ann had asked him if it was worth it, if risking career had been worth it. Mark had stared at her hard, and if he had been able to feel anything he would have felt deeply hurt at her complete lack of understanding, so he had answered simply and bluntly, “Yes.”

He's not sure that he and Ann were okay. He’s not sure if he’s okay. He’s not sure if he wants to be here today, if he wants to race anymore. He not sure of anything. He feels nothing, had felt nothing since the moment in his kitchen four weeks earlier on the verge of crushing under the weight of pain. There’s a hollow deadness inside. If it wasn’t the most ridiculous thought, Mark thinks ripping out his Timer had ripped out everything in him, hope, love, passion – all those things that Timers stood for.

But there was one thing that numbness gave him and it was perfect clarity. About Sebastian.

Mark’s eyes stare at the angry red scarring on his wrist. It was vicious and stark. He was told it would fade, but it wouldn’t change the fact that he would live with a reminder of Sebastian for the remainder of his life. Raw and red, and if you rubbed your fingers just right, fucking painful like you had brushed exposed nerve endings. An oddly perfect fitting for their relationship.

“Hey.”

Mark yanks his hand to his chest protectively as he looks up at Sebastian standing in the door way, eyes wet. He closes the door, stays pressed against it, keeping his distance.

“People say having a Timer removed fucking hurts,” Sebastian’s voice has a tremor to it even if he was doing his best to look his sure and cocky self. He wasn’t and if Mark had any energy he’d break him right now.

“It’s fucking painful,” Mark agrees flatly as he gets to his feet. “Still it didn’t hurt as much as last year. Still didn’t hurt as much as losing.”

Sebastian bites his lip hard. “About Abu Dhabi,” he takes a deep breath like he was going to launch into a spiel.

“Don’t Sebastian,” Mark holds up his hand to silence him. “This is going to be brief, this is us making sure we know where things stand, that you understand where things are at.”

Sebastian crosses his arms, hugging himself. “It’s fine Mark. I worked that out right at the moment you butchered me out of your arm.”

Mark nods. “Good,” he says before repeating it quieter, “Good.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “This year, we race. There’s no us, there’s nothing but two people racing and being respectful. There will not a single moment spent together that is not required by our contracts. You keep to your side of the garage, I will keep to mine. And we will get to the end of year just as we started. As absolutely nothing.”

Sebastian nods, blinking and there’s tears that threaten to spill but they seem to balance but never fall. There’s pain, there’s regret, and there’s guilt all in Sebastian’s searching gaze, but nothing as bright as the broken hope. He was like an open book, he always had been. Those blue eyes that Mark had found himself thinking about in the past, now look dull, empty, just like he felt and its as if Sebastian thinks he had lost just as much as he did. There’s a spark of anger, it tries to ignite but it fizzles almost immediately.

“It wasn’t nothing, we weren’t nothing.” Sebastian whispers voice breaking. “You can’t say there was nothing between us.” Mark moves towards him, stopping in front of him as Sebastian attempts to shrink into the door.

The snatched moments between them flash through his mind – Sebastian holding his hand in hospital, the Red Bull Christmas party where he and Sebastian had first kissed, Valencia when Sebastian had spent the night with him, but nothing was as bright as Monaco and kissing him endlessly, remembering how he had let Sebastian convince him that things were going to work out, that he loved him, and how he had for one insane moment believed him.

“We’re nothing now,” Mark promises and it was a promise he was going to fulfil with every fibre of his being. He’d rather die than let Sebastian ever lay a finger anywhere close to his heart again. “We are nothing, we will always be nothing, because _you_ are nothing to me.” And now the tears fall, and Sebastian does nothing to wipe at them, instead he moves aside and leaves the door available and Mark grabs the handle and opens it.

Walking away, leaving Sebastian in that room was relief. He had felt something, and he tries to nurture that tiny bud of hope that he was surprised even existed in his chest - he was going to be okay. He was going to be okay.

 

Sebastian sits on the edge of the boardroom table and he does nothing to hold back the sobs that leaves him. He doesn’t cry because he lost Mark, the more he thinks about it, the more sure he is that he never had Mark to begin with. You can’t lose something that you never had. Instead he cries for his fourteen year old self, that boy that had all this hope and this dream, this absurd notion that he would get the one thing he was promised in life.

“Seb?” Britta was tentatively knocking on the door, her face full of concern.

He can’t stop his tears, can’t reel in the pain he feels at having all his hope ripped from him and he has no idea how to tell her, how to explain any of it. He gasps when without any words she rushes over and squeezes him hard, hugs him so hard and he can only cling to the back of her shirt.

“It will be okay Seb,” she holds him, making promises he knows she’ll never be able to keep, as if she knows, as if she has any idea about what happened. No one knows anything, he talks to no one. So he tries hard to reel himself back in, to stop sobbing to clean his face.

“Hey,” she whispers, holding his neck tightly as she pushes her face to his. “You’re world champion,” she reminds hi,. “Focus on that, focus on winning, and nothing else will matter right now. I promise.”

He nods. He could focus on that, on just winning. Maybe he could win all the races. Maybe if he threw himself into F1 he could just forget about all this fucking pain and rejection.

“You’re going to be okay,” she tells him firmly.

“I’m going to be okay,” he repeats, voice holding no conviction.

“You’re going to be okay.”

He takes a moment to even his breathing as he repeats it firmer, “I’m going to be okay.”

Britta smiles at him. “You’re a winner, a champion and the rest is insignificant right now.”

He nods again before wiping his face once more on the sleeves of his shirt. “I’m okay,” he tells her forcing a shaky smile. And he pushes himself off the table he walks out of the room, determined to forget about everything, to focus on the season.

He was going to be okay.

*

Every race of the season Sebastian approaches the same way. He has to win that race. He has to. It’s literally the most important thing. It’s what drives him through the weekend, it’s what drives him to train constantly between race weekends. If he can focus on the next race win, then he doesn’t have to think about Mark. About how Mark isn’t there.

He’s there physically if you want to be technical, but those times when he’s with Mark, because ‘their contracts dictate it’, Sebastian is aware of how very absent Mark is. It’s like there’s a shell of his former teammate, functioning on autopilot. Sebastian is not okay to deal with that, so he stops looking. It makes it easier.

He ends up with eleven wins. He ends up with his second championship, and it doesn’t matter what the numbers say, or how good the car is, it felt like the hardest season he’d ever competed in. Come Brazil, where Mark gets his only win, where maybe there was a spark of life back in him, Sebastian is exhausted.

But the season is over and Sebastian can finally let go and collapse. He won and he survived. Surviving felt like the biggest achievement of the year.

*

To get to the end of the year, to be able to win in Brazil, Mark wasn’t sure that was possible in the beginning. He’s also not sure why at the end of the year Ann is still with him, how she can stand there at the end after everything. But she was, to tell him she loved him and that she was proud of him. And if it wasn’t for her, he’s not sure he would of made it, that he would have been able to keep going.

“I know you feel like you have nothing left Mark,” she told him at the beginning of the season, “I know you think there’s nothing in you, but I know there’s still life in there,” she had whispered one night in bed. “I know you’ve got a lot of strength left.”

And Mark had shuddered at the words then because it made him want to cry, because she had belief when he had absolutely none. But she was right, he did get through to the end, because she had enough faith for the both of them.

He’d never be able to tell her how thankful he was for that faith, he’d never be able to express how much he loves her for that, how fucking grateful he was that she never left. How do you even begin to tell someone that they were your world? She’d given him so much and what had he given her? Nothing, at least not this year because he had nothing to give.

He’d marry her all over again if he could. But they’d done that and he’d been a pretty shitty husband if he was honest. “Thank you,” he tells her on New Years. It’s the millionth time he had said those words, but a million more would still never be enough. He touches her face and she turns to kiss his hand.

“I’ll always be here Mark,” she promises, “Always, for you.”

Mark strokes her cheek. “You’re the most amazing person and I never deserved you.”

“For someone that’s not meant to be mine, you feel like the most right thing in my life,” she tells him. “I’m starting to think fate knows nothing.”

Mark chuckles and pulls her closer. “Fate is fucked up,” he agrees. “As long as you keep wanting me, I’m going to keep giving it the finger.”

Ann smiles up at him. “Happy New Year Mark.”

“Happy New Year darling,” he smiles before bending to kiss her lips.

Another year ends, and unlike last, he’s not so terrified to start another. He’s sure he can face anything at this point, even fate’s cruel and twisted plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I appreciate every comment and they only inspire me to write more!


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